


Heaven's On Fire

by Martengapop



Category: The Evil Within (Video Game)
Genre: And Sass, Art, Blood and Gore, Character Study, Drama, Eventual Smut, Explicit Language, F/M, Family Drama, Friendship, Gun Violence, Like really slow so bear with me, Literature, Mind Games, Psychopath in Love, Romance, Serial Killers, Sexual Tension, Sisters, Slow Burn, Thriller, Violence, lots of sass
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2018-05-16
Packaged: 2019-01-21 08:20:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 45,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12453357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Martengapop/pseuds/Martengapop
Summary: Union was collapsing and Kenna was Mobius’ last hope after Sebastian Castellanos had went missing on the job of finding his own daughter. As she was tasked to find the Castellanos, little did she know that the devil lurked inside the place in a form of a man with the camera— and that she would fall into his arms.This fic is an AU.





	1. Prologue: The End Of The World

He was not a deity, yet he had the power that none of the humans she’d encountered had. He was no monster or a vile creature with a stuck out limb and melted visage, but a man; immaculate and handsome in his well-tailored expensive suit and scarf, his crimson leather gloves. Looking almost nothing like the atrocity he projected. He had a sadistic sense of art and plain heartless when it came to killing the lives of others, which she had seen it with her own eyes. He was dangerous, cunning, artistic, debonair.

The man with the camera was a twisted soul beyond repair. That, she should have known from the start before it all led up to this, before he stood only a feet away with his camera ready, a dagger on his other hand.

Under the dim hallway, his presence was as intimidating as when she had first seen him, something that sent every hair in Kenna’s body stood up. Stefano kept his head lowered, his bangs sweeping over his eyes that they disappeared completely behind his dark locks making it hard for her to discern his expression. Though if anything, the way his thin lips set into a hard line was enough to know that he wasn’t here for a simple chat.

Kenna gulped, agitated but tried to appear dauntless at the sight, her hand cautiously rifling through her leather jacket for her pistol just in case things went awry. Although shooting him was the last thing she had on her mind, but if the circumstances demanded her to do so she’d do it in a heartbeat. Despite her heart appallingly ache at the thought she wasn’t going to let her guard down.

“Stefano, no!” the raven-haired woman started, her voice quivering with fear, grief, agony; feelings she’d forgotten to feel before. She raised her gun at him, aiming straight to his head and still, he stood frozen in his place. He was never usually like this, the eerie mute that he exhibited was alarming. “Just go, please. Leave.”

Stefano looked up, Kenna could see his broken eye was lighting up from the device. He stared at her for a long time, the grave look on his face never faltered even as he tightened his grip on the dagger. His gloves were smeared with blood. From all the time she was here, she’d never seen him like this; this angry. He was a psycho and murdered people for sport, yes, but he hardly looked like a kettle ready to blow off steam. This was out of the ordinary.

Kenna kept her gun trained on him, but her eyes looked deflated. She couldn’t do this, no to him. But then Stefano raised his camera to his face and a newfound threatening stir.

“Stefano, don’t make me do this,” Kenna remarked. It was her final warning for him. “I don’t want to kill you.”

His finger hovered on the shutter and she sensed no qualms from him.

“You already have.”

Stefano clicked the shutter and Kenna closed her eyes shut. She thought she heard a gunshot echoing across the room.


	2. Devils On My Doorstep

She could hear thunders roaring in the distance, hidden behind the lumps of the gray clouds that were shrouding the early awakened Krimson City. The skies looked unnaturally dark even for Kenna's standards and her favorite color was black. November had come sooner than she'd anticipated and she did not like a single bit.

That morning, the rain was falling in a chaotic frenzy that if you turned the dishwasher on it was just impossible to hear anything except the little voices in your head, that the street below was submerged in a small flood, burying half the wheels of her neighbors’ cars and the park right across the street.

She stood by the windows, absent-mindedly watching the beat of the water against the window pane and the gusting wind outside that blew the newspaper man to his feet. Her hands shoved deep inside her pockets and still, coldness somehow managed to seep in through her oversized sweater and sweatpants.

And Kenna sighed. Perfect. Just perfect.

She was behind on her bills that she couldn’t afford to replace the damned heaters in the moment, she was starting to regret having had bludgeoned her boss in the head for harassing her at work. Well, not that she supported sexual harassment in a general sense, per se, but this world had never been kind to women. You got harassed and they’d expect you to grin and bear it and swallow your dignity down your throat, you got harassed and the only justice they served you was by relieving you from your job if you decided to press charge against them. Either way you were fucked; either way, no one would care.

So she took justice into her own hands. Despite poverty, at least she walked out with her dignity intact. Starvation and hypothermia were problems for another day.

Feeling that she desperately needed her first batch of coffee for the day, Kenna strode to the kitchen without further ado. The rain was starting to bore her and it didn’t look like the shower would stop any soon.

One of the flaws from residing in the suburbs was how dingy their flats were. The one she lived in now was a far cry from picturesque and the rent control was a freaking steal for a low-rise building that didn’t even come up with air conditioner units, though she had learned to grin and bear it. Sock foot nonchalantly pushed small unpacked boxes from her way where it hit the walls with a small thud and Kenna jokingly mused it was a good thing the walls didn’t collapse because of it. This place was as rickety as her neighbor’s 1980’s Corolla.

Kenna’s studio apartment was fitted up with the standard suburban housing from its landlord with minor breakdowns on the bathroom equipment and the obsolete plaid couch nobody asked for. She had long ditched the bed ramps and placed the mattress on the floor instead to save space, her tiny drawer couldn’t even fit half of her clothes thus she kept some in the boxes. Although they could rot for all she cared. Kenna only gave a damn for the replica painting of Klimt’s The Kiss, something that she “borrowed” from its previous owner for years now, and her trademark studded combat boots.

Kenna was about to reach for the cupboard when the power winked out, and it looked like the whole neighborhood was affected by the outage. Her movement immediately halted though it wasn’t because of the darkness of the room that caused it. Kenna wasn't the only one in the room. She knew; she could feel it, years of experience had sharpened her senses though just how ironic it was that they had her at disadvantage at her own home and the fact that she left her gun in the bedroom.

She cursed inwardly, a deft hand slowly grabbing for the kitchen knife in the drawer without making much of a sound. Kenna was clearly unprepared but she wasn’t going down without a fight. Whoever this person that had the audacity to invade her privacy was in for a surprise.

"There’s no need for that, Kenna. It’s only me.”

Kenna’s whole body froze as if time had stopped. _She’s finally found me._ She still had her back turned from her but even without relying on her eyesight, Kenna knew well whose voice it was. She placed the knife back on the counter and whirled around.

Standing before her was a woman, dressed in long blue jeans and her favorite button-down white shirt with a soft black leather jacket that probably had been Kenna’s. She had this calm and collected look kind of face with her short brown hair hung loosely below her ears, a style that she had rocked pretty much ever since she was sixteen and those steel blue eyes which looked nothing like her own hazel ones despite their blood ties. Her gaze was formal and dignified but familiar despite their estrangement for years.

"Hello, sister.”  
  
"Juli," Kenna replied, cold and stern. Maintaining her ground even when she was speaking with her. She trailed her eyes around her to see she was unarmed which was quite an unusual fashion for the likes of her.

“It’s… been a long time,” Juli said and she noticed for the first time just how weary she looked, something that probably applied to Kenna as well. Well, at least, this was something the two had in common regarding their appearance.

“Yeah, it sure has.”

“You look…”

“Like I just came straight out from ‘Nam?”

Juli shrugged. “I was about to say bone-tired, but that could work.”

And then there was a strained silence between the two siblings and the air suddenly felt heavy. It was quite strange, meeting her again after such a long time.  

Juli had been her everything and the only person she could rely on when the chips were down. They had been through hell together back in their adolescence and one of them was their parents’ unshakable obsession for Christ that they hardly had time to play around like normal children would, every weekend would be one church service after another. And as the only surviving daughters in the family, their share of fate and misery was quick to form a bond between them; they confided in each other when the others chose to neglect this matter, took the matter into their own hands and fled even though it landed them in the juvy a couple of years before MOBIUS scooped them off of their feet.

You could say Mobius had their part saving their asses from the streets, but again, the devil could quote for his own purpose. And between the rock and a hard place, they didn’t have much of a choice. Although Kenna felt she should have known better; she should have seen it coming before it had torn them both apart.

“So, what do you want?” Kenna questioned in askance, making her drooping eyes narrowed.  
  
"Hmm," came Juli’s voice once again, though this time, Kenna could hear a slight disappointment in it. "Even after all these years, that is how you talk to your sister?"

Kenna crossed her arms over her chest and the look on her face was far from cordial. She was being a major prick to the only surviving family member she had and she knew it, but her feelings were confounded in the moment.

In truth, she was thinking. Of all the years she disappeared from Mobius’ grasp, Kenna had been watching over Juli ever since and not once she made a single attempt finding her. It would always be some Mobius Agents following her tails which she easily warded off from, but never Juli. Until now.

This was highly unusual. Kenna could be falling into the most cliché-st trap in the history of mankind, yes, but she couldn’t shake that nagging feeling that something was clearly up. And she was in means to find out.

Kenna shook her head and gave a dismissal wave. "Let’s just save the niceties for the honeymoon, sis. I know you wouldn't have put that much effort tracking me down if you didn't need me for something."

Juli raised her eyebrow at that. "So you knew?"

"Of course I knew. The question is why. It’s been years since I had a Mobius recon team on my six, what the hell are they trying to throw at me now, huh? I thought I made it clear I’d gauge the Administrator in the eye if they try to take me back!” Kenna spat, all the hatred she harbored for the power-hungry wacko just slipped out without giving a second thought.

As if on cue, two men in suits suddenly appeared from Juli’s sides and into the lighter part of the room, both wearing their sunglasses on despite the dimness. They looked somehow devoid of any human feelings as well which for as long as she remembered, everyone at Mobius was pretty much functioning like a bunch of cyborgs.

Kenna was nothing but shooting daggers at them. How dare she, she thought, having the audacity to bring these two psychos at her door. She could feel her hands balled into fists.

"And you brought your lovely goons with you... How delightful,” Kenna’s glare dissipated as she gave the two Mobius agents a sinister smile, the kind that would scare the devil off. If their intention had been to intimidate her, two could play that game.  
  
"This isn’t like what you think, Kenna. These are just procedure. I promise you they aren't here to jeopardize you," Juli explained, sounding like she was on the edge of her composure.  
  
"Jeopardize me?" The woman with the long raven hair scoffed. "You know damned well I can take 'em out clean before they can lay a finger on me."  
  
"I know,” Juli nodded once. “But there’s no necessity for violence here.”  
  
"Then _why_ are you here, Jules? And don’t throw me that ‘because I wanted to see you’ bullshit, we both know better than that,” Kenna demanded. All this digress had her emotion revved up too high. “What the fuck is going on?”

Juli clenched her jaw, she clearly seemed to hesitate about this approach but quickly overcame it. If anything, she was always so good at hiding her feelings like an on and off a light switch and her shrewdness was legendary, no wonder she made a notable reputation for herself at Mobius. But this, something must have troubled her deeply to cause her this disconcerting.

“Something happened, Ken. I— _we_ need you back. We need your help."

Kenna’s shoulders tensed. Somehow, deep down, she knew. She fucking knew they wanted her back, but for what? If only she wasn’t on the cusp of her curiosity, she would have gone ballistic.  
  
“For what?”

“Remember Lily?”

“The Castellanos girl?” And Juli nodded, her face tensed. And Kenna sensed she wasn’t going to like what she’d hear next. “Yeah, I remember her, alright. What’s with her?”

“Something happened to her, Ken.”

Fear crossed her face. “What do you mean something happened to her?”

Juli made a once-over over her shoulders before sighing. “This isn’t my place to say anything at the moment, but this is crucial,” she determined, earning her questioning looks from the two Mobius agents behind her. “Lily is in danger. Union is collapsing and none of the agents nor the independent contractors we sent in could find her. I don’t know how much longer the STEM Machine could sustain the fall, but we need to get her out of there. We need to get everyone out.”

 _Shit._ Kenna’s mind instantly propelled back to the days when she was still under Mobius’ wings. That little girl. That sweet, innocent soul whose future got deprived for a mad man’s arrogance now had to endure such catastrophe. She could still recall the first time she met Lily and loved every minute she spent with her. And Myra… good god, how could she ever cope with such news?

“Jesus Christ, Jules…” Fuck, this was a lot to take in for her. She wasn’t even a part of them anymore, but even the news made her jaw unhinged from its place. “Shit, what did you guys do?”

“She just went loose. I don’t know how, but one day she just stopped transmitting all signals from inside the STEM and Union has been slowly descending into rock bottom ever since,” Juli explained and Kenna took heed. She found that she was even more appalled by the situation than she had expected.

“Shit. How’s Myra taking any of this?”

Juli pursed her small lips, she looked concerned. “Bad. She’s inside the Union now. She was the first to go in when the anomaly began.”

Kenna cried in disbelief and tossed her hands mid-air. “Oh, yes, send in the mother. What a brilliant idea, you rapscallion bastards. Why don’t you get her father as well and throw in a one fucking Castellanos reunion instead?” She suggested sarcastically and then proceeded to grab a mug from the cupboard and the saucepan from the drawer. Just in case the power went back on, she could dash off to make her coffee.

“We already sent Sebastian in.”

Kenna turned to face her, a put-upon face of shock. If her eyes would pop any further, they would have been coming out of her head. “You did _what?!_ ”

“Listen, Kenna,” Juli stepped closer towards her, a look of determination crossed all over her face when she spoke. When she stood before Kenna, they were about the same height making it easy for her to maintain eye contacts. “I didn’t like it either, but I had no choice. Sebastian is familiar with how the STEM machine works, he was my best bet. You know me, I would have saved her myself if I could."

“Then why didn’t you?”

“Excuse me?” She asked, bewildered.

“Why didn’t you do it?”

Juli flinched in her place. Her eyes shooting plead for her to drop the subject, and then it just clicked in Kenna’s mind.

 _Beacon._ Of course.

Kenna might not have been there to hear the story first-hand from her, but from what she could gather from all the information she recovered through a backdoor access left by an insider at Mobius was enough to send chills down her spine. She’d read the gory, explicit details about what happened, how a madman twisted and altered the world and minds on his own whim. It was downright insane. The fact that Juli could even stand on her feet after having had to undergo such incident was astonishing.

“You don’t want to go back. Shit,” She answered on her own, she thought she heard sympathy lacing her own voice. Kenna almost wanted to reach out and hug her. Almost. “He made you do it, didn’t he?”

At her words, Kenna could see the two men seemed like ready to pounce. Her sister, on the other hand, was striving to hide behind her facade.

“I don’t want to talk about it, Ken,” Juli admonished as she looked the other way. Surely this was a rough subject for her.  

“Of course not. You know, we could have avoided that if only you had listened to me.”

"And what? Ran away with you? Hide and constantly on the run for years without a certain future?” she snapped. “No, it’s not that simple. I'm not you, sis. I wanted to live, I did, but this isn't how this world works. The only means to live is surviving. _That_ is the only choice we have."  
  
"Had. I'm walking on a tightrope, but at least I'm free from those corporate bullshits. _‘The rich rules over the poor, and the borrower becomes the lender’s slave.’_  Proverbs 22:7, remember? And I ain’t no one’s slave anymore,” Kenna countered. Never had she seen the day that she would use a Bible verse in an argument.

“Look, Kenna…” Juli sighed again, it was obvious she didn’t have the energy to dispute about this matter. For the first time that night, she fixated right through her eyes, almost humble for her standard frankly. “Please, I’m not here to dwell on the past. I know I never asked you to do me a favor or anything, but… this is different. This is a matter of life-and-death situation. Her life hangs in a balance here, I can’t let this kid die in vain, sis.”  
  
"Sending me inside the STEM under this circumstances is as good as sending me to the chopping block, Jules."  
  
Juli stepped forward towards her sister, holding her gaze just kindly. As if afraid she would say anything wrong. "I know. I would have sent someone else but you, but I'm running out of options. And if anyone could do it, it’s you, Ken. You know Union by heart; you helped us built the world and you were one of the best agents we ever had. I’m asking you to set aside your hatred for Mobius and try to see the bigger picture here.”

Kenna was silent. She was surprised that she _actually_ mused the offer over.

"If I were to do it, what's in it for me?"

Well, for a prize.  
  
"Money, obviously. Courtesy of the Administrator himself. Enough to buy you a ticket out of this cesspool of a town.”

“Can he pay me full in advance?” Kenna inquired offhandedly. She was thinking about her overdue bills and the $400 debt she owed to her neighbor downstairs that she had been avoiding to use the stairs for the past month.

“No,” answered Juli. “But we can give you a quarter if you’d go with us to the facility right now,” gesturing her head towards the door behind her.  
  
Kenna hummed in acknowledgment, drumming her fingers furiously on the counter as her mind went gyrating. “And what about you? I mean, what will you do?”

Juli gave her a sad, warm smile. "You don’t have to worry about me, sis. I can take care of myself.”

At that, Kenna flashed her a cheeky grin. “Yeah, well, I have no doubt about that.”

The rain had become mere drizzle now, like soft feathers falling from the sky. At this rate, Kenna could see the sun had started to creep in behind the mass of clouds that she didn’t even realize the power had gone back on. The rain would stop anytime soon without a doubt.

Somewhere in the back of her head, Kenna knew going back was a huge retrograde for her conviction, but at the same time, she just couldn’t ignore her sister’s call for a plea. Call it a familial sentiment, but even with their fallout, Juli was still her younger sister she needed to look out for. She was the only one she had in this world.

“So, will you do it?” Juli asked, hopeful.

 _Well, I guess this is it,_ Kenna thought. _Back to the devil’s doorstep once more._

With that, Kenna set her decision straight.

“Alright, sister. I’m in.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to my Stefano/OC story, fellas! I never thought I would write a story from The Evil Within, but the TEW 2 is amazing, I can't help but let it consume my soul like crazy. 
> 
> Moving on, I would like to thank the awesome mrscrankypants for her unconditional love and support! I love you, gal! And if any of you fellas happen to dig Mortal Kombat or Shokugeki no Soma, her place is the ultimate shrine that you need to visit. Check her out!
> 
> Finally, any comments and critiques are very much welcomed. You all know the drill; if you like it, leave a review, if you don't, leave a review.


	3. A Fool's Errand

“Okay, I’m approaching the City Hall, Jules,” Kenna informed via her communicator, her eyes on the lookout. “Are you sure that Castellanos has stabilized the place?”

Kenna crawled under the hole cut in the chainlink fence with a cautious tread, her gloved hand clutching tightly to a dead man’s Colt M1911 pistol that she had found in the Marrow where his head was splintered into two in the most atrocious way. She would have vomited had she had eaten anything, but after spending hours and hours inside this wicked and egregious version of Union, she had somehow learned to tolerate the atrocity.

 _"Positive. O’Neal already confirmed that the Stable Field Emitter had turned back online just before Sebastian's disappearance,”_ Juli answered from the end of the line. There was a brief pause before she spoke again. “ _Why?”_

Straightening her posture, Kenna dusted off her washed out jeans and the oversized black leather jacket that she was starting to regret wearing. She was practically sweating underneath it, she remembered the weather in Union had been this January-esque chill with gentle winds, hence, she wore a jacket. Kenna also remembered the trees, how they swayed gently from the breeze as spring was in full swing. Now, what was left of them were dead and twisted branches like distorted limbs.

But again, it seemed five years changed a lot so much. Kenna barely recognized anything anymore.

Well, anything except for that flimflammer bastard, the Administrator.

When Kenna had been brought to the facility with Juli and her goons, she expected nothing less. He was there to welcome her, of course, like an old acquaintance as if all the chaos she’d ensued years ago never happened, although Kenna knew better that this was only a charade for their momentary synergy. The man was a manipulative miscreant that if deception was an art, he would be the master.

He had been her worst nightmare, someone she truly frightened of and now, as she’d watched his mouth kept oozing sore of empty promises and boring ambitions on how he wanted to create his own vision of serenity; paradise, which was something she had heard millions of times before, Kenna wished nothing more than to punch that disgusting smirk on his face. She forgot that he had the penchant of reminding people that he was in power; that he could turn someone’s life upside down with a flick of a switch or whatever methods he had in mind just for his goals for MOBIUS. He would do everything even if it meant using his own agents as expendable pawns.

And Kenna was beyond glad she had removed him and MOBIUS from her equation for good.

Yet here she was again, doing another one of their dirty works just because of a man’s ego trip that went too far. If it hadn’t because of Juli and the payment that left her flummoxed, she would pretty much have told them to fuck off.

“I don’t know it doesn’t look set to me,” Kenna said again, feeling uneasy as her nostrils picked up a foul stench in the air. She gave a grimace once she found it source.

There were corpses lying at the entrance of the courtyard, dozens of them, bedraggled in god-knows-who’s enormous pool of blood. Their condition was horrifying, some had their limbs torn off from their body, one devoid of his entire mouth but the worst one, in Kenna’s opinion, were the ones who were infected by the strange disease. They looked like the worst imaginable humanoids one could ever think of, with their bubbling and mutated skin it was hard to think that these creatures had once been humans despite their human clothing.

And their behavior showed little of human in them as well; they were feral and insane and cannibalistic. It was as if they lost their way on what it meant to live. Kenna thought it was mercy by putting them out of their miseries.

Then Kenna circled around the water fountain at the center, where an angel sculpture stood in the middle of it and an overturned truck laid a few meters away from it. Keeping her best to steer clear from the bodies and blood, she made her way towards the main building.

There was not a single soul in sight— or at least, as far as her eyes could see since there was very little lighting in that place and the sky was the blackest black, devoid of the moon. Though she could see the theater from here, floating upside down in the air like some kind of mad man’s phantasmagoria, above it, stood a massive, glowing blue camera-like creature where its tentacles embedded to the ground. Kenna simply hated looking at it. It made her feel like she was being watched.

But that was impossible. Distant-wise, the thing could hardly see where she stood right now.

And yet why did this uneasiness still linger? More importantly, why suddenly she felt like someone was watching her?

Kenna breathed hard, she could feel chills ran down her spine. “I don’t like this. Shit, I don’t like this one bit, Jules.”

 _“What’s wrong, Ken?”_ She could hear anxiety at the tip of her tongue.

“I don’t know,” Kenna grunted as she made her way towards the door, still, her eyes kept glancing over her shoulders for no obvious reason. “I just feel like I’m being watched. Call me insane or paranoid or whatever, but you know my instincts are rarely wrong.”

“ _They're never wrong,_ ” conceded Juli. _“Christ, be careful, sis. Once you found a clue about Sebastian’s whereabouts, just get the hell out of there.”_

“Yeah, you don’t need to tell me that twice. But I’ll be careful, I promise.” Kenna was planning on seeing another day, anyway. As she stood by the doors, she sighed. “Okay, I’m heading inside this goddamned place. Going radio silence just to be safe.”

_“Alright. Give me a quick update if you find anything. Good luck, Kenna.”_

“Thanks. I’ll be needing that.”

With that, Kenna attached the communicator back to her belt and stepped inside.

The first thing she immediately picked up once she was inside was the classical music; Tchaikovsky would be her best bet if her ears weren’t deceiving her, where it soared throughout the vastness of the entrance hall like a bird on an up-draft, muffling her very steps. Although if there was a stereo system somewhere in this room, Kenna couldn’t see one.

What she could perceive in the dimness, though, was the sight of the red liquid on the floor; a blood trail, marring the pristine linoleum floor with a dark and thick path that led all to the way to the other end of the room. The color swirled in her mind and soon, her curiosity piqued. Kenna crouched to take a closer look at the shoe-prints; male, average size, as her head trying to paint a picture of what had happened from a large amount of the splatter beforehand. It was fairly obvious this didn’t come from a finger cut or bleeding nose.

Whoever these prints belonged to, the chance he could be very much responsible for this murder.

Well, it was a good thing Kenna came in armed when she did.

She drew the gun as she cautiously followed the line. Kenna knew it was highly unrecommended for her to meddle in whatever-the-fuck was going on in here, but she was out of choice. She could be walking into her own pitfall or the only lead that could help her find the Castellanos and end this topsy-turvy once and for all. It seemed Kenna would have to just bite the bullet.

The trail of blood disappeared behind the large doors. Subsequently, she pressed her ear against the door, trying to listen closely to any movement from the other side but heard none. The music somehow perfectly shrouding the whole building.

Wasting no time, Kenna tried the doorknob and the heavy wooden-bound doors swung open. What she saw in there was enough to make her mouth fell open.

Kenna couldn’t even begin to intricately describe what it was, the imagery before her looking straight like a violation of scientific law. There was a blonde woman with a knee-length puffed sleeve blue dress and a pinafore worn over the top free falling inside some sort of a time field and looping endlessly in slow motion. Her body was suspended in mid-air where various objects such as an armchair, books, a teapot, a handheld mirror, a gilded pocket watch, an antique Victorian bedside lamp surrounding her in the same movement, her face was wrecked from a lousy surgical operation with blood spraying out from her eye sockets and mouth whilst her arms held out open. It was very symbolic and transmundane; the music, the display, the lighting, they all very aesthetically on point it left her jarred.

 _Whoever behind this must be an avid fan of Lewis Carroll,_ she thought. _Well, in a twisted and sadistic way._

Skimming down her eyes from the ceiling, Kenna saw a small piece of paper on the carpeted floor right under the hovering spectacle. She squinted. Had it always been there? Was it meant for someone to see? Either way, Kenna decided to retrieve it.So, Kenna unfolded the paper to see a very neat cursive handwriting before proceeding to read the content  
  
_In another moment down went Alice after it, never once considering how in the world she was to get out again._

“Another Alice reference?” Kenna muttered in confusion. What the fuck did these things had anything to do with all of this?

She was about to decipher whatever the sender had wanted for her to understand when all of the sudden, the ground tremored violently. Panic quickly transformed the curiosity in her face, the gun was quick to fall from her grip and her anxiety spiked. Kenna’s mind was screaming to get the hell out of that room, but her feet wouldn’t budge. They felt as if someone or something holding them down to the ground, she could only shriek in terror.

It all happened so fast. One by one, Kenna watched as the floor unraveled and collapsed before her eyes, creating a massive pit that was spreading to her standing point until there wasn’t any left of the ground for her to tread.

In another moment, down went Kenna into the dark abyss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun dun, down went Kenna into the abyss. Next up, we'll get to meet our favorite serial-killer! Woop! What would ever happen when Kenna and Stefano meet? Stay tuned, and don't worry, I'm planning on writing the chapter longer that this one. And I promise I'll try to update some time this week (wish me luck, this damned writer's block is just the worst).
> 
> Do leave a review, yeah? Whether you like this story or not, your input will be much appreciated :)
> 
> Oh, and happy Halloween, y'all!


	4. Servizio Fotografico

Kenna thought she heard music.

Not the same one that she had heard before, no, it wasn’t Tchaikovsky. She could scarcely make out the cheery tune, jumping sonically in her ears and somehow, she felt like she recognized the song— no, wait she _indeed_ knew, as though if she had heard it in a film or somewhere. The name was at the tip of her tongue, but at this point, it felt tenuous to think of particularly anything. Her mind might have already awoken, but it didn’t mean it had functioned properly.

 _Midnight with the stars and you_  
_Midnight and a rendezvous_  
_Your eyes held a message tender  
_ _Saying "I surrender all my love to you"_

Then entered another voice aside from the singer’s; rich, deep and masculine, humming to the music that was playing. Kenna opined that he had a disarmingly wonderful voice, like dulcet tones in her ears, if not, very distinctive, the kind that presumably belonged to him only for she had never heard a voice like his.

He sounded near, like only a heartbeat away. But then a subtle awareness rouse within her.

Who was he?

Why was he here?

And where in the seven hells was _here_?

Those questions whisked her mind enough for her to snap, her consciousness clawing its way out to the surface. Something was amiss.

Slowly and reluctantly, Kenna lifted her heavy lids open. She found no pleasure in the act, however, especially when she felt the first of the blinding light peaked right through her retinas like some whimsical distortion. She blinked twice and squinted when her mind spun out of control like an overspeeding carousel, she could only groan in hoping it would alleviate. The pain was acute and brutal. There was a fleeting moment where Kenna thought her head was going to smash to smithereens before it finally slowed down and stopped.

Gradually, her vision starting to regain its functionality for the first time in a while. Kenna was first aware of gazing at her own boots, albeit veiled by her disheveled raven locks, and the lingering smell of dust in the air. It also came to notice that her ass was plastering to a hard surface, which her mind immediately picked up that she was sitting in a chair, although, if she had any recollection on how on earth she could be sitting in _here_ , Kenna couldn’t seem to find one. Everything was still such in a daze, it was just frustrating.

She then took a conscientious look at her surroundings, despite her still droopy eyes begged for her to reconsider. A room, fairly two times larger than her whole apartment combined was the situation that bestowed upon her at this moment.

The place was mostly taken up by the monochrome photographs that hung on the wall, which Kenna couldn’t quite seem discern what they were, the massive archaic painting of what she deduced as a scene in _Tristan and Isolde_ and some antique furnitures. They all appeared to be still functioning properly despite bathed in dust. There was an enormous red drapery that was shrouding some parts of the room, covering the Paisley wallpaper that slid from the walls as if trying to hide its flaws though, from an artistic point of view, the predominant color made such an interesting contrast to the black and white flooring.

Not far from she sat, various of photography equipments sprawled before her; a tripod mounting a DSLR camera, diffusers, umbrella lights which as far as her eyes could perceive were the only reliable source of light in the room, there was also a makeshift table where the light meter and lenses set in place and many other equipments that she was unfamiliar with. The phonograph sat next to them, the song coming to an end. Behind them, stood the massive wooden doors that were left ajar.

The gears in Kenna’s head were turning then. What exactly was this place? _How did I even get here?_ Her mind mused. Then it clicked; _the fall._ And Kenna could feel every fiber of her being cursed inwardly, this was seriously some fucked up situation indeed.

Not just the fall completely fucked up her plans, but it had really taken a tumble off her strength and now she felt like shit. Kenna wagered it would probably take some time for her to recover, and here wasn’t the ideal place for the task— wherever the fuck here was.

It was at this particular moment when Kenna realized the framed photos on the walls, and the contents took the exasperation within her to a whole another level. They were unknown and candid pictures of her, all of them, there was one back when she was in the city hall courtyard, talking to her communicator; then there was a rather up-close picture of her fighting off a small horde of the undead and so on. What really irked Kenna was most of them looked as if someone had taken the shot from a very conspicuous angle, but judging from the distance she should have seen the person behind the camera.

Did someone had really been stealthily tailing her this whole time? Could this be the reason why she’d felt like she was being watched then? Questionnaires upon questionnaires flew right through her brains. Although Kenna couldn’t seem to pinpoint their ulterior motives, she reckoned it had something to do with her affiliation with MOBIUS.

 _Fucking MOBIUS._ Of course, everything had to have to do with them.

“So, it seems someone has finally woken up from falling down the rabbit-hole.”

Kenna almost leaped out of her skin upon hearing a male voice from her back. She tried to rise to her feet only to find something restricting her movement. A dread took over her face when Kenna realized that both of her hands had been tied behind the chair and that her jacket, gloves and all her personal possessions had all been deprived of her. Leaving her only in her white t-shirt.

Appeared before her was a stranger; a man like a spectral coming out of the shadows without a warning, whose presence reverberated throughout the very stillness of this room.

There was a very rich essence of resplendency from his appearance, and his outfit spoke volumes. He was sporting this sumptuous indigo suit, sharp-looking and well-fitted to his lean and tall figure. He wore a red scarf where its ends were tucked neatly underneath his suit jacket with a pair of gloves with the same darker shade. His leather loafer shoes probably cost him more than her monthly rent, though Kenna couldn’t blame him. Those shoes looked classy as hell. His well-clad appearance really was a stark contrast to her rock and roll vibe. She had to give him that— whoever this person might be.

He appeared to be in his thirties if one was not mistaken, but the way he wore his dark hair swept down, covering his right eye made him look uncanny and how his mouth quirked up into a Cheshire Cat-like grin was enough to send chills down her spine. In any other occasion, one might wear that smile as a form of a jest, but here, the only person who would smile like that must be none other than the devil.

“I must admit, I did not expect that MOBIUS would send another one of their unfortunate pawns into this utopia this soon. Especially after the _mishap_ that happened to your predecessor. Clearly, I’ve misjudged them. And clearly, I’ve misjudged you,” the man with the Italian accent remarked. When he walked, the dim and shadowed lights overhead following his every step like vultures; melodies rebound while the clicking of his shoes her filled the void in between.

“G-get away from me!” Kenna bellowed, albeit recoiled in terror.

The man clicked his tongue, his electric blue eye staring condescendingly like a scorn. “Well, you are an uncouth one, aren’t you? But I don’t mind a little challenge. I’d expect you to be one, frankly.”

“What in the hell are you talking about?”

Still holding the same devilish smile, the man simply turned the other way. He hadn’t even made the third step when Kenna called for him from his back.

“Hey!” her voice rasping like a sandpaper. “Who are you? What do you want from me?”

“One question at a time, my dear. I’m not the type to accomplish two things at once,” he replied, his hand waving mid-air like some sort of dismissal.

“Just answer the damned questions!” she yapped, she could care less if she was the one mired in distress. In fact, her tone was simply a mere defense mechanism from appearing tenuous.

He sighed loudly and jerked his head in her direction. “It appears an introductory is in order, then. Though I have the feeling that we have made each other’s presence known,” he then proceeded to fully face her again and bowed dramatically. The strands of his shiny dark locks covering the entirety of his forehead. “First of all, my name is Stefano Valentini, _piacere di conoscerla._ And let me be the first to welcome you to Wonderland.”

Kenna’s stomach churned. The reference was resonating in her head and everything simply fell into place. Her gaze then found the Polaroid camera in his hand and her thoughts went scattering like millions of galaxies dust. It was like her mind just failed working right there at the revelation.

So it was him. The creep who had been taking unknown and candid pictures of her stood before her, barely showing any guilt or remorse—in fact, it appeared like he took pleasure from her dismay. She was deeply frightened by this obviously, there was a chance that this Stefano guy was certified insane but fury and agitation had begun to collide in the major parts of her brain. He’d been taunting her this whole time and now he dared to tie her up and show his face? Asshole.

“You…” Kenna was nothing but snarling. She was clearly livid by this encounter that her eyes were nothing but shooting daggers. If there was fire in her eyes, she wanted Stefano to know.

“ _Sì,_ I. I sincerely hope the fall didn’t break a bone in your body.”

“You son of a bitch!” she spat, the words tasted like venom on her tongue. Her whole body shook in resentment. “You— let me fucking go. NOW!”

“And then what, hmm? Give you and MOBIUS the opportunity to invade this haven for your own means?” Stefano gave her a bitter look. “ _Penso di no_.”

“For fuck’s sake, I don’t even work those greedy bastards anymore!”

“What difference does it make? You came here for the Core, under _their_ orders,” he said. “My dear, you are a MOBIUS just like those at the other end of the line.”

_How does he know about the Core? Shit, could he be the one who took Sebastian as well?_

Kenna growled. “Listen here, you inane douche, you either let me go right now or I swear in the name that is holy I will smash every tooth in your head!”

He chuckled, lowly and dangerously it made Kenna almost wished she hadn’t been so brash to him. Almost.

“I dare you to try,” Stefano’s voice dropped an octave as he stepped closer, just an arm’s length away. The proximity was too close to her comfort knowing the circumstance she was in. “What is it that they say? It’s no use banging your head against the wall? Well, you get the idea. _Especially_ when I have the upper hand. It’s time to face the music and succumb.”

“Well, I’m not a risk-averse. So, bring it on.” The moment the words left her lips, the sooner she regretted uttering them out.

A faint hum escaped from his thin lips. Was it mockery in his eyes? She couldn’t tell, but it made her felt groggy. “As the _signorina_ wishes, then.”

With measured gait, he then backed away from her and proceeded to the makeshift table. Stefano once again humming to the music that was playing as his gloved hands picked up what it appeared to be a bloodied dagger. And her blood went cold. He had taken pictures of her, she wouldn’t want to know what kind of more twisted thing this man was capable of. As much as she wanted to hit him as the next person, she needed to be cautious.

 _Fuck, fuck, fuck,_ Kenna cursed inwardly. She did not sign up for being brutally dismembered by a fucking psychopath like this, fuck no. She swore if she ever got out of here, she would berate the living hell out of Juli or if did she die here, those people at MOBIUS would get seriously haunted. Particularly the Administrator.

A small heads up of what Kenna would be facing could save her a lifetime from this ruckus, but no, MOBIUS would always be MOBIUS with their corporate pride bullshit and confidential affairs. They had come to her door and pleaded for her assistance; she was their last and only hope and they had the nerve to throw her right up a blind alley. These people expected results but how in the hell could she even save Union if they wouldn’t let the skeletons out of their closets?

The music made an abrupt static then, the male singer’s wondrous voice sounding as if melted and turned demonic it changed the song’s cheery tune into something completely horrific. Then the song stopped. Stefano was left sighing as she watched him picked up the record out and blown on the flat surface, the dagger neglected. Kenna quickly seized the opportunity by flexing her hands, though the effort was unfruitful.

 _Shit._ It seemed it’d just be him and her for a while.

“Is that why I’m here, then? Because I’m endangering your whole existence?”

Stefano flashed that hair-raising sinister smile again to her, making her felt uptight. Deep down, Kenna wondered was this how it felt when she did that to others?

“I think you already have that part figured out.”

Kenna, in her thirty-one years of life, was rendered speechless. Seriously, did someone just splinter the reality and tossed her with this crazy fuck? Stefano was clearly out of his mind. This was as bad as when Tosca found out that Mario Cavaradossi was dead.

For fuck’s sake could these ropes unbind any faster?

“I haven’t, actually. Trouble me, then. I’m all ears.” In truth, she could care less about what he had to say. Kenna was only buying herself more time with the ropes, though, that if she succeeded, and then what? Damn, she clearly needed to think this through.

“One of the majority,” he finally confirmed. “But as you can clearly perceive from the vital piece of instrument in the center,” he gestured his head towards the camera, although, his attention still fixated on the phonograph. “and the objects surrounding you, I happen to be an artist. A photographer, to be more precise,” Stefano answered as he gingerly placed it back on the turntable. When the music played again, a content smile overtook his entire face.

“Oh, yes, thank you for the intelligent input, _my dear._ I mean, _why?_ ” Kenna insisted. “Why me?”

Stefano shrugged offhandedly, though Kenna could still clearly see the trace of his smile adorning his visage. It seemed he took her sarcasm in well-mannered.

“ _Perché no?_ ”

“What was that?”

“Why not?” Stefano remarked again, his stare was as sharp as the devil’s talon. Kenna scowled. Her mouth made an uncharacteristic grim line, her brows furrowed. It almost sounded as if he was doing this just for the hell of it.

“That’s it? You took pictures of me just because you fucking wanted to?” Kenna asked again, somehow his ulterior motive didn’t quite resonate well in her head.

“Because _art,_ ” Stefano corrected.

“Art...” Kenna contemplated the very meaning of the word in a way that she had never done before.

Her mind instantly went back to the Alice display she’d encountered at the City Hall. It was no doubt that that thing must have been his _modus operandi_ , knowing Stefano was the only artist with a penchant for such malice she had come across thus far.

Was that supposed to be art? Kenna mused. Art knows no border, she knew of that. In the work of art, it wasn’t about the moral or the idealist approach; art was art, there were no rules applied in it. And while she had to admit the intricate and effort of the visual presentation was a far cry from the run-of-the-mill kinds she had seen but was it fair to kill in the name of art?

“So, what? You’re going to kill me because I look like an art to you?”

“You ask too many questions, don’t you?” Stefano’s face crossed her as a mélange of annoyance and unresolved displeasure. When he looked at her again this time from behind the curtains of his hair, she could clearly see murder building in his visible eye, even so, he proceeded to answer nonetheless.

“I wouldn’t lie, eliminating you would mean one less of a parasite in this place, and then you happen to have the final puzzle piece that I need for my art. You shall be my artistic triumph,” he explained glibly. “It’s more of a _prendere due piccioni con una fava_ situation for me, or as translated to your tongue _to kill two birds with one stone._ Oh, I’ve orchestrated all of this in my mind, and you, my dear, you will be perfect. All you need to do is die.”

Without further ado, Stefano grabbed his Polaroid camera and _her_ gun from the table. He strode right towards her, his steps impatient, his broad shoulders hunched and Kenna could feel death looming closer to her.

She had known fear all her life, but nothing compared to this. She was fucking terrified.

Alarm bells started to blare in her head and her hands began to wriggle forcefully than ever, Kenna rotated her wrists back and forth as her mind revving for anything that could nip whatever the heck he had in mind while still in the bud. If anything, half a loaf was better than nothing.

“Wait, wait, wait, before you put a bullet in my head and cut my limbs into pieces, there’s one last thing I need to know,” Kenna tried a more civilized approach, she could feel sweat starting to form on her forehead and pulse racing.

“ _What?!_ ” he sounded almost as if he was barking. Clearly, Stefano was on the verge of his patient.

She opened her mouth, then closed it again. _Come on, think, think, think._ Her eyes on the prowl, she scouted around the room for something— _anything,_ when her gaze landed on the massive painting in the corner. Going against her better judgment, she rolled out the dice. She thought was on a lucky streak anyway.

“Is that the authentic painting of Tristan and Isolde by Egusquiza?”

To her utmost surprise, Stefano froze in his place. He pressed his lips together and narrowed his eyes although the gun was still drawn. If he was trying to hide his expression, it was clearly written all over his face.

Stefano paused. “How do you know that’s a painting of Tristan and Isolde?”

 _Well, that was unexpected,_ Kenna mulled. Her hands never ceased wriggling out of the ropes. She needed a little more time.

“Isn’t it obvious?” She tilted her head in the direction of the painting once more.

In the painting, which took place at the end of the opera, was a depiction of Isolde, half-naked, where she laid her body on top of Tristan’s corpse. Her eyes were shut tight, though, her hand appeared to be holding his. Kenna declared that anyone who had watched the opera would cry their eyes out from seeing this. It was amazing how art could move people’s hearts like this.

“Not according to many individuals, ‘tis not,” he countered, his eyes kept darting back and forth between her and the painting. “I’ve brought countless of souls into this room and not once one acknowledged it.”

“It seems obvious to me,” Kenna lifted her shoulder in a half-shrug. “Though I gotta admit, I never pegged you for the type to watch it,” she digressed, again, feeling the ropes beginning to loosen.

“Well, I am a man of art. Of course, I enjoy every bit of these brilliant minds have bestowed upon us. Tristan and Isolde included.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get ya. I’m not saying the play was shit— it’s the opposite of shit, it’s just… well, I never thought you’d like that. That’s all.”

Stefano dropped the gun from her face and cocked his head. He was staring at her as if she was some kind of an enigma.

“What kind of opera do you think I’d enjoy then?”

Kenna looked dubious, but answered. “ _The Ring of the Nibelung_ at the very least. Or some of Puccini’s works.”

“And how come does a woman like you know this?” The artist asked incredulously.

 _You’d have to thank MOBIUS for that,_ she thought.

MOBIUS might be prioritizing physical fitness and keen sense of analytical ability for their agents more than anything, but besides those, they also educated them with uncommon knowledge as a part of the training. Knowledge is power, they would say. These people were obsessed creating perfection, that they demanded the same from their people.

Back when Kenna was younger, she had used to wonder what good would these knowledge help her in the real world. Well, she kind of understood now.

“Does it matter? I happen to know, that’s not enough for you?”

“Your... appearance deceive you,” he admitted, his gaze trailing at her unkempt appearance and the cut on her lower lip. It was as if Stefano was judging a piece of an art or something.

“Oh, we’re talking about exterior façade now? I thought you said I look like a work of art or some shit?”

“It’s just…” Stefano cleared his throat, almost sounded forced. “It’s quite unexpected from the likes of you.”

Kenna stifled a relieving gasp when managed to wriggle her way free from the tie. She held onto the ropes tightly in her hand, making sure that they didn’t fall lest Stefano found out of her aim. In the meantime, it was only a matter of getting rid of the artist from hindering her way and she would not hesitate. Oh no, she wouldn’t.

“Well, that’s me for you,” Kenna muttered.

In this exact moment, Kenna took the courage to look at him— really looking. She was fearless, flashing her own sinister smile at him, her hand squeezing into a tight fist. The fire in her eyes was still there, and this time, he indeed saw it.

“And this.”

As quick as the lightning, Kenna swung her fist to his face. Propelling him backward and collapsed on the ground. His hand covering the right side of his jaw. She thought she heard him groaning in pain, but that was the least worry she had in her mind right now.

Kenna rose to her feet, then, knocking his precious camera and equipments to the floor without even a glance back. She left her belongings and jacket on the table and bolted for the door as fast as she had ever run. It was the only choice she had.

And she kept on running, down the long corridor as fast as her feet could take her. Her long, raven colored hair flapping back and forth behind her, her heart was pounding, her chest rose and fell with rapid breaths. Kenna didn’t know whether Stefano was following her or not or neither did she had the slightest bit where that door at the far end would lead her. But she wouldn’t stop running. She wouldn’t stop for anything.

Kenna charged at the door shoulder first and stepped into the light.

* * *

 

He could feel the ache all over his face, stinging. Stefano held his hand to his jaw and he saw his own blood coming from his nose, marring his own leather glove. The color blended perfectly with the crimson liquid.

When was the last time Stefano shed his own blood? He couldn’t seem to recall when. It had been always someone else’s that touched his pristine gloves, never his. This. _This_ was highly unusual. The tables have turned on him. And somehow, he found himself grinning at the thought.

The woman had sucker-punched him well, he had to give credits where it was due. Not just that she was a force of nature, but then she revealed her aces on the table it left him dumbfounded.

Who was she? Stefano mused. He should have asked for her name.

His ears then picked up to the sound of thuds coming from the other side of the room. Stefano turned his head and smile, like a parent seeing his child after years of separation, at the sound of mechanical shrill and perpetual moans that as his eyes found her camera head. Upon seeing its maker, the thing made a run for him with her long three legs. Behind her, his Guardian followed, looming at least twice Stefano’s height on his feet. It’s multiple heads fixated on him only, her high-pitched giggles echoed through the air though as they drew near, Stefano sensed a strong sense of hostility at the sight of their maker on his knees, harmed.

“My darlings...” Stefano reached his hand to touch Obscura’s head, he shifted his attention to the growing wrathful Guardian. “I’m fine, _bene_. The woman only did so little to harm me.”

Still, his precious prized creations protested. He couldn’t exactly blame them, though.

“No. Absolutely not, no chasing after her,” the artist scolded, his tone stern. Stefano could feel their anger beginning to lessen. “Let her be… at least for a while.”

He then tilted his head to the now wide, open doors. She was nowhere in sight despite Stefano swore he had just heard her running. He stared longingly at the corridor, his mind gyrating for the possible places she could end up to and he knew he needed to work fast. He needed to find her.

Stefano’s attention blurred when he felt Obscura nudged his arm with her head. He chuckled.

“You feel that, don’t you, my beautiful Obscura?” He beamed. “I’ve finally found her. I’ve finally found _the one._ ”

While Obscura’s mood shifted completely, Guardian merely cocked her heads in disbelief. He nodded his head to her and was replied with the sound of a cackle.

“At last.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there, welcome back to another chapter of Heaven's On Fire! I'm sorry it took quite long for me to update, but life tends to be a drag and writer's block is just the cherry on top. I had to scrap this chapter like numerous of times before finally settled with this one. I sincerely hope this chapter worth the wait and I hope Stefano won't come out as OOC in here :((
> 
> If anyone's curious, the chapter title name came from a song by Bruno Nicolai with the same name that he composed for this Italian horror flick in the 70s called La Dama Rossa Uccide Sette Volte. And the song in the story is none other than Midnight, The Stars and You as you guys have probably heard in the movie, The Shining.
> 
> Lastly, I would like to thank my homegal, Mrscrankypants for her perpetual support and for always be there whenever I need someone whether to proofread my stories, having fun or when the chips were down. Girl, you are amazing, I love you! Next, I'd like to thank my baby bro for his advice and suggestions. Your knowledge for art is astounding, bro, like seriously, thank you for lending so many with me <3 <3
> 
> As usual, if you like it, leave a review, if you don't, leave a review. Cheers.


	5. Think Of The Devil And He's Here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I've finally updated. It's been like what, 3 weeks since the last time I updated? Regardless, I apologize for it. I've had a hard time writing this chapter down since, like always, writer's block keep nagging like shit. I do hope you fellas are satisfied with this draft, though :/
> 
> Anyway, I will keep this short. Read on, and if I'm lucky, I hope I'll see down there at the end of the chapter. Cheers.

“Hey, Jules, it’s me.”

It didn’t take long for the communicator to crackle back to life as a worried voice instantly greeted her from on the other end of the line.

_“Kenna? Jesus Christ, Kenna, where the hell have you been? I’ve been trying to reach you for forever!”_

Kenna sighed an annoyed sigh, her warm breath made a sharp contrast to the chillness of the Marrow. She didn’t even know where to start explaining all the things she’d seen and endured earlier to Juli, and a part of her was still vexed by the fact that none of them had the decency to warn her about Stefano. She felt betrayed. What was the point of this job if it would only lead her to her demise? Somehow, it made her think that maybe sending her here was one of The Administrator’s ulterior motives for her to kick the bucket.

“Did you? Well, sorry about that. I was away for a “photoshoot” session with an _aspiring_ photographer that you amazingly failed to mention during the briefing. So, thanks for that, sis. I never knew MOBIUS cared so much about my passion for modeling.”

Juli gave a long pause. _“Oh, shit.”_

Kenna snorted, all the pent-up rage slowly building inside her. “Oh, yeah, _‘Oh, shit’_ indeed, isn’t it?”

 _“Kenna, I_ — _look, Sebastian_ did _mention about a crazy artist on the loose inside Union, but we haven’t had a chance to look further into it. I never thought…”_

“‘Never thought’ what, hmm? That his presence could put my life and the mission in peril? Wake up,” Kenna responded bitterly. “You know we could have avoided this little incident if only you had come clean with me! But no, you people just love to sweep everything right under the rug, don’t you? And now that trouble has arisen, who should do all of your dirty work and fix them? Me! Fucking me! That’s who.”

She instantly shut her mouth tight after the sudden outburst. Regretting the words. Yeah, she felt like shit but it didn’t mean she had the right to exclusively blame everything that had been happening around here on Juli’s shoulders. She should have known better, this was out of Juli’s hands. Maybe what Stefano had said earlier wasn’t entirely off the mark after all: they were indeed nothing but a bunch of unfortunate pawns in this game of chess.

Taking a deep breath, she sighed again. A hand kneading her throbbing temple. “I— shit, I’m sorry, sis. I didn’t mean to say that to you, it’s jus—”

_“MacKenna.”_

Upon hearing the Administrator’s voice from the communicator, Kenna could feel her lips curled. It was as if her mood went downhill like an avalanche. About time the bastard decided to show up, she thought.

 _“I shall let you know that the decision to withhold this information from you is solely as a precaution from corporate espionages. You are no longer one of our agents, we needed to be cautious. Though it is unfortunate that you had your life in jeopardy because of this,”_ he explained, his tone commanding and stern though masked by deceit that she discerned miles away.

“You should have told me. What’s the whole fucking point of me being here if I’m dead?”

_“You wouldn’t. With your personal history with MOBIUS, we are certain that you will attain success.”_

“That has nothing to do with this at all!” She was almost screaming at this point, her neck-chords jutting. “Union isn’t the perfect Shangri-La that you once knew anymore. This place is fucked up! You hear me? Fucked. Up. And I’m out here risking my ass for your precious asset, and you can’t even bother to throw me a bone.”

_“In case you failed to notice, we are in a race against time. And second place is not an option. We’ve done more than we could to provide for your necessary safety, but until we had the Core secured, we have nothing more to offer.”_

Christ’s sake, why did she take this job in the first place again?

Kenna scoffed loudly. “Right, sometimes I forget that this is how you operate. You’d shove dozens of lives to the frontline if it means saving this company. No wonder that Sebastian went missing on the job.”

That was a low blow, she knew it. But his methods were just utterly absurd and all of this company secrecy bullshit had her on edge. Frustration couldn’t even to begin with.

There was a strained silence from both ends and Kenna could tell her remark clearly irked him. But this man wasn’t appointed as the Administrator if he couldn’t disguise a small indignation.

 _“MacKenna, I believe I agreed in hiring you back to finish what Castellanos had started, not giving us the projection of your colorful insight.”_  
  
“Correction, _you_ had my sister _pleaded_ for me to come back,” she quipped.

 _“Regardless, there is a much more dire circumstance at hand and I urge you to stay focus. If you think you can’t handle this, then we’ll manage this our way,”_ He emphasized on the word ‘our’ and the edge in his voice was unmistakable that Kenna chose to let the matter slide. For now.

“Fine, fine, but I don’t like this little secrecy thing. If you want me to succeed, you better provide me with everything you have. I have the right to know as much as everyone else in here.”

_“We’ll see to it once the situation fits. In the meantime, I’ll let you get back to Kid.”_

In bare seconds, Kenna was welcomed with the familiar sound of Juli’s airy voice.

_“Ken?”_

“Look, Jules, I’m really sorry about before. I didn’t mean it like that, it’s just…” She ran her bare fingers through her hair. Kenna had an inkling that this would be a far cry from a simple search-and-rescue mission, but never had she expected to this very extent.

 _“No, you had every right to be angry like that. I understand,”_ intervened Juli. She could hear the sheer remorse in her voice, it made Kenna feel like an asshole she was. _“Though I can’t imagine how it might have been for you. Did he hurt you?”_

A strange agony gripped her heart as the memories replayed in her head, it was like watching the sequel to her least favorite movie that she wished it wouldn’t exist. But it soon altered completely by this newfound malice she had towards him. Kenna swore the next time she crossed path with that freak again, she would not hesitate to take the low road. Though there was no point in letting Juli know about this. For all she knew, there were enough things she needed to worry about on her plate.

“Nothing that would concern the mission. Don’t worry.”

Just as Kenna had anticipated, Juli didn’t seem to buy it. _“Kenna, spare me the crap.”_

“I’m serious, Juli. Look, let’s just pretend none of this ever happened, and just focus on what’s our next move from here,” Another weak prevarication though after a brief pause, this time Juli decided not to press on it. Much to her relief.

_“Fine then. I take it that you are safe from within his reach now?”_

“I’m in the Marrow, just left Hoffman’s safehouse. So, you can say everything’s hunky-dory.”

 _“That’s good to hear,”_ Juli replied with a surge of relief. _“Where are you heading now?”_

“The Business District. I haven’t checked for any resonance other than the City Hall. Might be worth something checking there.”

_“Speaking of the City Hall, what exactly did you find back there? Any clues about Sebastian or Lily’s whereabouts?”_

Kenna pursed her lips. “I hate to break it to you, sis, but I found nothing other than that Stefano fellow and his morbid art fest. Oh, and he knows that I’m here for the Core.”

_“What? How is that even possible?”_

“Well, that’s the million dollar question, isn’t it?”

 _“Shit. This is going to be a lot more complicated than we thought, huh?”_ At this, somehow Kenna could picture Juli drumming her fingers furiously on the table, lines harboring her face.

“You bet,” Kenna concurred, stifling a yawn that came to her mouth.

When was the last time she slept, she wondered? Her heavy eyes galvanized for her to rest that even the floor looked comfortable enough to sprawl on and sleep. It seemed she’d just have to get to O’Neal’s safe house and have another batch of his coffee. Because, full offense, Hoffman’s coffee just tasted like shit, she couldn’t even imagine what did she put in there.

“But yeah, we’ll figure this out,” Kenna reassured, despite knowing full well their future was on the roll of a dice. “Somehow.”

_“You will. You always have everything figured out in a snap.”_

“I’ve had my fritz,” Kenna gave a half-shrug and smiled. “You, on the other hand, are a living thinking machine. Though that’s impressive, it gives away your age by ten years.”

 _“Up yours, sis,”_ Juli chuckled, her breath came as static over the communicator as Kenna followed, somehow liking how the mood shifted completely. It almost felt like they were back years ago; undivided, unanimous. As their laughter died down, she continued. _“I guess we’ll talk again soon. Keep me updated— and please, please stay safe.”_

“I will. Wasn’t planning on dying, anyway.”

_“Good.”_

With that, Kenna reserved the newly acquired communicator on the usual spot on her belt and unsheathed the pump-action shotgun that she had also obtained from Hoffman’s safe house. Which she had to say, for someone who claimed that combat wasn’t exactly her forte, her weapon stash was pretty neat.

She walked past through the door to the Exit D5 with measured caution, her sight never once falter. Though she was fully aware that The Marrow was somewhat twenty-five percent safer than the rest of Union combined, Kenna treated the place just as the same. No more funny business, she thought. Not when Stefano and god-knows-what were still on the loose.

Kenna wickedly thought of all the scenarios she would do once she stumbled upon that psycho artist again. Should she talk to him before or after she put a bullet through his skull? Either way, his demise would be imminent.

She had made sure that the room was indeed safe before Kenna shifted her attention to the computer terminal in the far corner of the room, a tree-shaped like a human brain symbol emblazoned the screen. Kenna logged in and was transported to one of MOBIUS’ safe houses in the Business District just in a jiffy. She wasted no time lingering indoor.

The Grand Theater was the first thing that came to her view once Kenna headed outside. There it stood in the distance; majestic and forbidding, the two words that Kenna had never imagined would belong in the same sentence. The gigantic tentacle monster was still there, no doubt, it's glowing blue eye like a camera lens was watching her from above that she had to suppress the sudden fear that ran down her spine.

She was being watched. Again. _That bastard._

But he had to wait, Kenna reminded herself. Not when her communicator was picking up on a strange reading; a tenuous male voice that drew her interest.

_“It’s all my fault, it’s all my fault, it’s all my fault, it’s all my fault, it’s all my fault, it’s all my fault…”_

Who was this? Kenna heard him say the exact same words over and over again like a broken mantra. Until what it had felt for the hundred time he whispered:

_“Lily was all my fault...”_

_Lily?_ Her droopy eyes instantly bugged out.

“Sebastian Castellanos?” Kenna waited for a response when none came. She raised the device closer to her face and tried again. “Sebastian, this is Kenna Kidman, can you read me? _Sebastian?_ ”

Still nothing. _Shit._ Kenna quickly traced the signal and found the voice was originated from somewhere in the center of the town.

If that was indeed Sebastian, she needed to get to him _—_ and _fast._ Yes, she was fully aware that Lily was her number one priority here, but she couldn’t just leave the child’s parent to perish if she could do something about it. Kenna was designated to save the hell out of this place, she might try as well getting everyone out alive.

So, Kenna let her anchors aweigh and pressed on towards her destination. When she made a once-over over her shoulder, the ever unwanted watchful eye still had its attention on her. _Only_ to her. She decided that it’d be better and safer if she slipped under its radar.

With solitude keeping her company, Kenna weaved slowly through the empty streets of the Business District, steering clear from alleyways and dead-ends to avoid the lurking hordes of the undead and other possible complications that would hinder her.

There was an unearthly stillness in the air, she could feel it by how the dim and shadowed street-lamps following her every step like vultures, the wind sweeping through her sweat-matted hair. The evening cooled to nighttime. And Kenna couldn’t help but feel slightly disheartened just how deserted this place now, knowing she had witnessed everything during its golden days.

The Business District could have been easily as one of Kenna’s favorite part of Union. Unlike most of the other areas, this particular neighborhood was broader, livelier, denser with many entertainment establishments that beckoned for visitors and citizens’ attention alike. Had she had forgotten that she was plugged in inside a machine, Kenna could have mistaken Union for a living, breathing town like no other.

There were parks, hotels, and houses, several restaurants, row of shops with different building styles; some following the city’s colonial tone whilst some were painted in garish colors. The buildings were taller, the streets were the veins, paved with the sun-bleached concrete slabs where trees and variety of plants adorning the sidewalk with their healthy foliage.

But the main attraction, in her opinion, would have been the Grand Theater.

True to its name, the place was _indeed_ grand, alright. MOBIUS seriously threw modesty out of the window when they had built this. Even from afar, Kenna could still discern the building’s grandiose façade. And unlike the majority of the architecture in here, the theater adopted a rich art deco layout: a testament to Union’s artistic accomplishment. Though now with the building was loomed with that _thing_ , it was clear that her opinion had altered ever since.

A few years ago, this place had been as busy as a Hong Kong flea market. It was impossible not to get caught with the jostling crowd on a Saturday night or in the summer: couples, families, passerby, even a group of adolescence had retreated here and there, never been almost absent from the view. All it took was for a madman to disrupt the system and what was left of this artificial town was vestiges, abandoned cars sprawling along the streets and nightmarish creatures that congregated in every corner. But to think about it, maybe Union had already been dead the moment they plugged an innocent girl as the Core.

Her communicator showed that she was getting close to the resonance point, all indicator led her to the Devil’s Own Taproom, a local bar with character. From outside, the place didn’t seem to look as if there had been an outbreak going on: not a single fittings were unhinged from its place, on the inside, however, was a sprawling mess. Like everyone had left in the middle of a brutal bar fight.

All the lights were still on, much to her favor, making her job easier as she conscientiously inspected every seating booth and the bar counter, though to no avail. There was a single door in the back of the room that she hadn’t checked, though her inkling decided against so.

In her desperate attempt finding the man, she huffed exasperatedly and pulled a face.

Was she missing something? Kenna was certain that she had had a lock-on on the signal. The communicator couldn’t have possibly misled her, could it? She could feel her head hurt from this.

Kenna was still deep in her thoughts when the room temperature dropped drastically, the coldness biting her skin in the eeriest and mysterious way. Mist shrouding the whole place as trepidation collaborated with terror. There was a brief moment when she thought she had gone insane and whatever Kenna had in mind then instantly snapped at the occurrence.

And it didn’t take Sherlock Holmes to tell her that the high-pitched hum that came from behind the door was anything human.

She thought she had prepared to face whatever was waiting for her behind that door, she even had her shotgun aimed ready, but when a ghostly looking woman showed up, phasing through the door like mere clouds, Kenna went pale. Her pale face was veiled behind her dark hair save for the sinister eyes that bore through Kenna’s, she swore she could hear the ghost crooning her name.

What the fuck was _that?!_

Without thinking, her finger mechanically pulled the trigger; once, twice, thrice, yet all of them had proven to be useless as they went passed through her body, damaging the paneled walls. Panic settled within her that her lips tremored, she realized her action only seemed to provoke her anger.

Kenna felt like she could succumb to the fear the thing cast on her and die on the spot when the ghost moved towards her at an alarming speed. She wanted to scream but her throat went dry, she wanted to run but her feet felt plastered to the ground and her vision was betraying her once again.

The interior of the bar was starting to shift to the resemblance of a decrepit house; the one she knew well by heart, the one that she had tossed far away inside her head alongside with its people inside where Juli, sixteen years younger than her current age was cowering and sobbing uncontrollably. Kenna had the urge to approach her, to grab her small and delicate hands and run off into the sunset.

But she couldn’t. And her heart dismantled at her pleading eyes, her bruising cheek. She had failed.

As the thing was draining the remaining life force she had in her, she stood stock still like a deer in the headlights, facing her impending death with a slumped feat.

It was then when a figure suddenly emerged before her from thin air, standing between her and the ghost with their back facing her. All that Kenna could hear was the sound of a camera flash charging and a voice, a very, very familiar male voice that drew her curious brows together.

“I don’t think so, _stronza.”_

 _Was that? Could that seriously be…_ She blinked slowly.

“Stefano?” Kenna murmured under her breath as he pressed the shutter.

_Click._

The whole room was instantly blinded by a white flash that the ghost let out a deafening shriek. Her voice eventually died down as she froze completely in her place, like a statue that Kenna was so nonplussed, her jaw dropped.  

Stefano then turned around to face her casually as if nothing had happened, his height towering her just a few inches.

“ _Ciao, mia cara._ It seems fate has brought our paths together again,” he greeted, grinning widely like a cheeky bastard he was and slipped his arm around her waist. Kenna was too disoriented to protest that she merely stared at him, at his eye of china blue which she just realized that that was his only functioning eye. Whatever happened to his other one, she wondered.

She tried to find the words to speak but found the effort impossible.

“Now, if you’ve never experienced a physical teleportation before, I’d suggest you hold onto your stomach… or to me, if you want to,” Stefano purred and pulled her closer until she felt his warmth radiating to her. “We are leaving.”

She saw him glowing, harmless blue coalesced with a strange mass of energy that left her stutter. It was very theatrical, like watching a dancing flame turned blue.

The pair dissolved into thin air at the third blink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> stronza: bitch  
> Ciao, mia cara: hello, my dear
> 
> HERE COMES STEFANO TO THE RESCUE. WOOP *throwsconfetti*  
> *clearsthroat*
> 
> I never thought I'd write Anima in this story, but I have been having a love/hate relationship with that gal since day one, so why not? And do apologize for the lack of Stefano in this chapter, though I can promise you it'll be 100% Kenno (that's my ship name for them. I'm sorry I'm a dork) talking endlessly. I'd give you a snippet, but the draft is still in early stages :/


	6. An Unsubtle Approach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> what comes after

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, I'm back! First of all, I would like to say Happy New Year to everyone! I know it's terribly late, but I've been quite busy, ergo just have the time to post this chapter now ._. anyway, I hope this chapter is worth the wait, and again, I hope I didn't make Stefano come as OOC here and I hope you guys can start to at least get a grasp of Kenno's relationship.
> 
> A HUGE thank you to my best mate, Mrs. Crankypants for her unconditional support, advice and just for generally being my best friend since the 5th grade. I love you gal! And also a shout-out to my other mate, Tahlia for her headcanon in which Stefano's suit is Armani and somehow it became the butt of our joke for days lmao
> 
> So you know the drill, read on, and if you like it, leave a review, if you don't, leave a review. Cheers.

* * *

  _“Come with me and you'll be_

_In a world of pure imagination_

_Take a look and you'll see into your imagination_

_We'll begin with a spin_

_Traveling in the world of my creation_

_What we'll see will defy explanation”_

* * *

  
They emerged somewhere outside, far away from the bar that the building became a mere dot in her eyesight.

Kenna was slightly trembling with a more-than-mild headache, the after-effects from what had transpired rushed into her system like a chariot race. The chaos and inhuman roars in the air were the constant soundtracks in her ears that made the effort to mitigate the trouble within her almost difficult. With a defeated sigh, the woman closed her eyes shut and rested her forehead on a firm surface.

What in the actual fuck was that? She wondered weakly, dread freshly etched on her skin like an open wound. And no, she wasn’t talking about that blasted ghost. 

Somehow, even in her uncharted haze, she could still see everything in the back of her head in such an intricate detail had she hadn’t remembered she was inside this bogus, virtual world, Kenna might have mistaken it for something real. 

Or was _it_ real? 

 _No,_ Kenna convinced herself. She took a deep breath in the open air, trying to omit any unwanted thoughts in her head that would only relive these sort of feelings Kenna had had painstakingly reserved in her rear-view mirror. That part of her life was over. She was safe, Juli was safe, they had lived through the worst and survived. Even if her sister chose to carve her own path afterward, but that damnedest part of her life was **_over_ ** and she didn’t want to think about it anymore. 

Fucking hell, the things this place did to her. And not to mention the teleportation indeed made her body felt funny, as Stefano had forewarned. 

Suddenly, her body went rigid.

Stefano… had that really been him? Kenna immediately pulled her mind back and raised her feeble head to confirm her suspicion. She found him only a hair’s breadth away.

They were close— alarmingly too close that she could feel his warm breath tickling the surface of her cheeks, his eye, blue and attentive was staring right through hers whilst the veins that jutted out from his broken eye was a tangible imperfection that he seemed tried to hide. His cheeky grin ever so present. His arms still draped around her and Kenna pondered how could she have forgotten that she was in the arms of the man who’d tried to murder her the entire time. And the fact that she let him hold her like this.

The realization was like a bee sting to her that Kenna’s eyes were the size of a saucer.

“ _What the fuck?!_ ”

Kenna shoved herself hard from his embrace, repulsed by his touch. He laughed, of course, typically him being an asshole he was when Kenna groaned because her clothes and hair smelled precisely like his perfume now; oriental and spicy and it intoxicated her in so many different ways. While the scent fitted him like a hand into a glove, but this was Stefano, the fucking bane of her existence. Kenna looked like she could murder him right then and there as he kept chuckling with a sheer schadenfreude.

“Just when I was starting to get comfortable with having you in my arms, my dear, you just had to flit away. _Che peccato!_ ” Stefano sighed dramatically at the loss of her warmth as he smoothed out his purple jacket. Kenna couldn’t see any creases in the fabrics though. Must be a habit.

She clenched her fists so tight that they left crescent-shaped marks on her skin, fire running hot in her veins. True, that her anger towards him was unquenchable, but at the same time, Kenna couldn’t simply ignore to the fact that Stefano had been the one who got her out from whatever the heck was that back there. As much as she wanted nothing more than to snap his neck, she needed answers.

Well, not without a mandatory precaution, of course, as she unsheathed her shotgun and aimed it straight at his chest.

“You better give me one good reason why did you do that or I swear imma pop a shell right through that fucking Armani suit of yours, psycho!” Kenna demanded through gritted teeth. Her finger on the trigger, she was more than ready to end this bullshit once and for all if he tried anything funny.

Stefano clucked his tongue condescendingly.

“ _Mia cara,_ is that any way to thank your savior?” he placed a gloved hand on his heart with a feigned hurt look. “You wound me.” 

“Oh, there’ll be more than just a wound if you keep that up, asshole. And I’d be more than glad to provide it for you.”

Stefano’s grin didn’t show a sign to falter any time soon, however. If anything, it grew wider, fiercer, as if he was actually challenging her to _shoot_ him. He was enjoying this, she could tell. And Kenna couldn’t decide whether to be mortified or rejoice for it would make killing him much easier.

“Ah, you and your feistiness. How I’ve missed that. And no, I’m not here to cause you harm, if that’s what you are so concerned about. In fact, that is the last thing I had in my mind,” Stefano finally admitted, his countenance looking strangely earnest, but Kenna wasn’t even remotely convinced.

“Like hell if you think I’m buying any of your horse shit.”

“Clearly, you haven’t been paying any attention, then, have you?” Stefano countered intelligently, his accented, smoky voice glided through the open space. “If my intention had been to do that why would I bother getting you out of there in the first place?" 

“I don't know, you tell me. For all I know, you and lady freak seem to be sharing the same schtick,” she retorted. Immediately regretting bringing that ghost to the conversation as soon as her face emerged in her head. Goddamn, that thing was creepy as hell.

“If you think that I would affiliate myself with such subpar creature, you couldn’t have been more mistaken. Besides, there’s no _art_ in how that thing claims her prey. It’s sickening.”

Kenna scoffed. “And how’s that even convincing at all?!”

Suddenly, with a flick of his hand, her leather jacket popped up from the thin air in a mystical, peculiar way that beyond her logical sense. The item was floating in mid-air like some puppet on a string before Stefano casually grabbed and offered it to her. Kenna was too stunned to response that she could only gape like a fool. 

“Would this be enough to convince you?” He asked lowly, seizing Kenna’s attention back to him. Once again, she was caught off guard under his intense stare. There was a split moment when Kenna almost let her guard down and actually reach out to the item. Almost.

“I was going to return this to you once I knew you were in the district. Well, until that little incident between you and the _anima_ happened,” the Italian man continued as if he could read her doubts like an open book. “Consider it as a peace offering from all the... appalling misunderstandings that happened between us.”

Her brows crinkled at her jacket.

“A peace offering? You seriously expect me to forgive you for those vile things you did to me?” Kenna squinted at the man before him, the fringe of his dark locks was swaying gently from the wind.

“ _To Err is human, to forgive divine._ ”

“Don't quote the bible at me, asshole,” Kenna spat, her voice rough. “And you can keep it. I ain't touching that thing no more.”

As much as Kenna wanted nothing more than to reclaim her possession, but the fact that they had been in Stefano’s hands for quite a time somehow lost its appeal. _Damn._ That was one of her favorite jackets.

Stefano shrugged nonchalantly, still cocky as ever even at gunpoint as he retracted his arm from her. “Very well, then. It would be my pleasure either way,” he said offhandedly. 

With gaze never leaving hers, Stefano subsequently raised the garment to his face with a lopsided grin and took a deep breath. “What’s this? _Vaninglia_ and jasmine?” he buried his aquiline nose on the collar once again, eye wide shut. This time, he inhaled longer.  Kenna could feel her whole face lit up. “I have to say, you do smell wonderful,” he finished with an exceedingly sly purr.

“Gimme that!” Kenna reached out and snatched the jacket from him, shotgun neglected and slung around her back. 

The jacket felt strangely heavier than before. She thoroughly inspected each pocket only to find the rest of her possessions intact: her pistol, the communicator, her fingerless gloves— hell, even that shabby lighter was there. Odd. Frankly, Kenna was half-expecting some kind of cunning trap or another one of his element of surprise blowing up in her face, but so far, nil. She waited for a moment and still no signs of an impending trickery from him.

With a strained mute, she proceeded to wear the jacket and the gloves, feeling the familiar fabric covering her ivory skin. And he was watching, intently; teasing. She wore her best challenging expression in return, her gaze as sharp as the razor’s edge, mouth set, she refused to be a shrinking violet under his lingering gaze.

“You keep staring at me like that, and I might as well shoot you now,” Kenna uttered with pistol drawn, leveling it with her face as if she was trying to scare a pyromaniac with fire. Pointless. Stefano, at least, had the decency to look mildly amused. 

“Such rudeness. And here I thought you’d be more willing to converse like what would civilized folks do.”

Kenna made a displeased noise in the back of her throat as she holstered the pistol. “You expect me to be warm and fuzzy around you after a minor selfless action? Yeah, right.”

“I admit, I was a little distracted by… other things, but I’ve gone past that now. Had I known the brilliance in that head of yours, I would have reacted differently.”

“Like what? Dissecting my brains out?”

He chuckled, throaty and deep. “My dear, you _do_ have a morbid sense of humor, don’t you?”

“And _you_ have a morbid sense of art,” Kenna countered.

“Then that makes us both morbid creatures,” he returned, and Kenna’s mouth let out a wry, hollow laughter at that.

“No, no, no, don’t even try to find a common ground between you and I. We’re worlds apart.”

Stefano hummed, but with a sharp derision in his tone as his face inched closer. Close enough that his scent began to invade her nostrils once again, her mind spiraling like Paris though not enough to bring discomfort. Surprisingly. Ergo, Kenna simply stood her ground. She simply resisted the urge to backpedal.

“Are we?” Stefano murmured dangerously low, he was staring at her lips, his expression indecipherable before he withdrew himself from the proximity. Kenna exhaled.

The two maintained their eyes on each other for a couple of seconds until she finally broke it, finding the streetlight behind him much more interesting than he did. 

With hands clasped behind his back, Stefano started to walk around her in circles. Like Mercury orbiting the Sun. Their shoulders only inches away from touching and Kenna stilled in her place. She was in a vulnerable position here and if she was brave enough, crazy enough maybe she could try and make a run from him.

“I’ve been closely monitoring you the moment you entered Union,” Stefano broke the silence, and Kenna had the impression that this was starting to become a full-blown conversation. “Your fighting skills are impressive, I have to commend you for that. But the fact that you are quite an art aficionado yourself simply… intrigues me. After you punched me and left me on the floor, I knew you aren’t like the ones they’ve sent in before.” 

Kenna craned her head to survey him, her eyes critical and quizzical. “So, what? I know art and suddenly you want us to be buddies?”

“I don't see how that couldn't be the case.” 

“I don't even know you! And better yet, you tried to kill me!”

“Well, you’re still alive, aren’t you? And I saved you, wasn’t that enough to compensate what I did to you?”

She wanted to answer no, but he did have a point there. Stefano could have killed her five minutes ago if that was his intention, but it didn’t seem to be the case. 

“If it makes you feel any better, perhaps I should reintroduce myself and try again, then?” Stefano inquired as his pace beginning to falter and stop. When he earned nothing from her he proceeded to harrumph and bow with a deep flourish. “Stefano Valentini, _l’artista_. The artist. And you are?”

Without bothering to spare him a glance, the woman crossed her arms over her chest in indignant. Her eyes scathing. Kenna tentatively thought if she should ignore him and let him made a fool out of himself.

“Kenna. The woman you tried to kill.”

Stefano laughed outright much to her surprise. His voice held a genuine mirth. “You have a wicked tongue and a wild imagination. I love it!" 

“Look, what are you trying to pinpoint here, Stefano?” Kenna exclaimed bitterly, her patience wearing thin. “What do you want from me?” 

He remained silent and simply strode his way towards the streetlight with his back facing her. Stefano chose that exact moment to regard her over his shoulder, as if beckoning her to fill in the blanks for him. In the dim light, he was an imposing figure; his suit was glowing, his profile sharp and exquisite like a curio. Kenna quickly chastised herself for thinking such things.

But then a thought just clicked her head just like that. The dots were slowly connecting and whatever her plan on running away simply disbanded.

“You wanted something from me,” Kenna finally said, loud enough that the silence between them broke. The almost knowing look on Stefano’s face confirmed it, but he schooled his expression well and shrugged, as if to admit, _you’re sort of right._  

“I’m thinking more if we could help each other, per se. I know what you seek after, what _all_ of you seek after,” Stefano smirked. “I told you I know about the Core.”

 _The Core._ Kenna had nearly forgotten that Stefano knew about it, and probably so much more than he was letting on. If anything, the man seemed to have lingered around Union longer than she could have imagined. This knowledge outweighed everything.

“But that is as far as I can reveal to you. Not when there are _ears_ everywhere.”

“Ears?” Kenna’s brows snapped together. “Stefano, are there others like you in here?”

A dangerous look crossed his face. The intensity in his blue eye made Kenna wonder just want went through his head right now.

“There are. But _he_ would do anything in his power to get the girl,” he said.

“He?”

“Yes, he.”

She waited for him to elaborate. “And? What about Sebastian Castellanos? Where is he?”

Stefano tilted his head to the side and smiled, but it wasn’t threatening or cocky in any way. In fact, it was somehow kind and inviting. Any trace of anger simply vanished.

“Kenna, darling, you don't expect me to spill everything just like that, do you? Have you heard the saying that trust goes both ways?” Stefano teased and she merely glared. He made gave an indulgent chuckle as he made a beeline towards her. “How about this, why don’t you come with me? I will answer your questions, just as long as you’ll answer mine. This isn’t the most pleasant place to have a conversation anyway.”

“Come with you? Is this some kind of awful gimmick into getting me back to that chamber?”

“ _Che?_ No, of course, not. Kenna, I told you if my intention had been to kill or kidnap you, I would have done that the moment we escaped that bar,” argued Stefano, obviously hurt by the accusation.

“Then you’re mad if you think I’d follow you blindly to wherever you want to take me,’ Kenna gritted out.

“Well, the thing about Union, my dear, is that we’re all mad here. As for you, you’re mad enough to be here,” Stefano pointed out. “Alice was mad enough to follow the White Rabbit down the rabbit hole, the Queen of Hearts became mad because she tried to keep everything under her control, the Walrus and the Carpenter were predators that preyed on the innocents and the curious, and the Mad Hatter was basically, _clinically_ insane. Madness is just a stupid label that those lunatics say to one another, you see?”

The irony was, Kenna was actually taking heed of this man’s lengthy speech about insanity and deep down, she knew he was right. There was no doubt about it. But was she _mad_ enough to actually comply with his demands and put everything on the line? She had so many questions dancing in her head, she was starting to have a misstep.

Conflict in her eyes flickered like a match and she scowled, but more at herself. 

Kenna looked at him then. He was near again now, just an arm’s length away. The breeze went past by their outerwear, dried leaves at his feet and she sighed loudly. 

What was it with the man tonight that his personality somehow altered one-eighty-degrees from the pompous murderer she’d met a while ago? This was the man that had taken pictures of her without her consent, had made an attempt to murder her with music in the background, for god’s sake. Who had saved her from the ghost and selfishly thought by returning her possessions he could redeem the vile things he had brought upon her.

She tried to gauge his expressions like a mouse eyeing a cat, wondering would she straight get eaten or tortured if she actually crossed the Rubicon. _Or would she receive neither?_ Heavens, this was overwhelming. Closing her eyes shut as if they could grant her answers on the situation she was in. Her expectations low.

Finally, Kenna let all the constriction in her lungs took flight and let her instincts guided her.

“Fine. I’ll play your little game, Valentini,” she revealed, taking in the surprised look Stefano’s face before it morphed into a grin. “ _But_ if you tried to kill me, I swear I’ll tear you to pieces.”

“I’d be surprised if you don’t, frankly.”

With that, Stefano spread his arms wide, gesturing for her to step closer that she reluctantly obeyed with deflated shoulders. Once again basked in his embrace, Kenna did her best keeping her arms at her side, her eyes fixated on the patterns of his scarf.

“Do we really have to do this everytime we teleport?” Kenna complained as she shifted her body more comfortably in his hold. Kenna could feel Stefano’s chest rumbled as he chuckled, his nose ghosting over her hairline.

“No. I just like holding you in my arms, that’s all.”

She groaned and escaped from his grip like before, pouting whereas Stefano merely gave a cocky wink and confident smile.

Somehow, Kenna could tell she was going to regret this for a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Che peccato!: What a pity  
> Mia cara: my dear  
> Anima: ghost  
> Vaniglia: Vanilla  
> Che?: What


	7. Madness And Genius Are Two Sides Of The Same Coin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suffice to say that this chapter breaks three records: 1. This chapter is currently the longest in the entire story, 2. The longest that I've ever written in a week. and 3. It has the longest title. To be quite honest, I'm still mildly surprised that I would update this soon, but here I am! 
> 
> Heads up, since the lack of Stefano's background story in the game, I had to throw in some stuff from my headcanon, so I sincerely apologize if they are a tad weird or even OOC. Heck, I tried ._. if you have any objections or something, do tell me, yeah? 
> 
> Lasty, of course I would like to thank Mrs. Crankypants for her usual support! I love you gal. And my brother a.k.a. my brainstorming partner. Thanks for all the help, baby bro :)) and of course, I would like to thank YOU for reading this story of mine. I've read all the reviews and I appreciate every single one of them. Thank you :)) 
> 
> You know the drill, read on, and if you like it, leave a review, if you don't, leave a review. Cheers.

The next time Kenna blinked her eyes, she suddenly found herself surrounded by a completely different, unfamiliar location that set her brows furrowed. Gone was the dim streetlight, the roars that somewhat she had starting to accustomed to, that gnawing feeling of fear in the pit of her stomach. Everything looked and felt different. It was as if she was had traveled into a whole new world out of Union and landed here.

Kenna looked at Stefano, he was still standing before her, obviously unaffected by the stir that she was feeling from the teleportation. He was staring at her comically, as if her reaction towards his mind-altering, gut-wrenching, illogical power was lacking grace. His head tilted to the side. Kenna, on the other hand, tried as her might to glare at him, but judging by how his smirk only grew wider it must have been a total fiasco. It supposed she’d better quickly recover from this mind blip if she wanted to intimidate him further.

“We’re here. Come,” he finally announced, gesturing his head towards an enormous object that she picked up on her peripheral vision.

Stefano then turned on his heels and walked into the direction of it, Kenna followed but instantly dropped dead in her tracks once she noticed what it was.

She positively could feel her jaw unhinged upon seeing an old Italian style estate that set yonder. The two-story residence was painted in a sulfur cream color that gleamed in the moonless night, some parts were discoloring that Kenna could only deduce from age and the beating of the sun. The windows decorated both the top floor and on each side of the main door where three arch pillars situated high above it acting as a canopy.

A white marble fountain sat across from the door where waters spurted from the top, falling down the pool beneath it.

As Kenna proceeded forward, she took the opportunity to swivel her head back and forth. Taking as much of her surroundings as she could. She noticed the vast gardens that surrounded the pathway towards the house; the neatly trimmed shrubs and hedges in separate octagonal mazes, various Roman sculptures that took up every ten steps that hadn’t taken by the hedge and trees and lamp posts.

Was this supposed to be his safe house— or in his case, safe estate? Because, _damn._ Magnificent was clearly an understatement to adequately describe this place. 

Kenna hadn’t noticed that had been gawking at the sight the whole time until Stefano smugly pointed it out.

“Kenna, my dear, as much as I enjoy seeing you gape and all, but I need to dutifully remind you to stop lest a fly buzzes into that pretty mouth of yours. That’ll be a terrible shame. 

Kenna scowled at the man. “Buzz off, Valentini.” 

Stefano merely chuckled and Kenna rolled her eyes with gusto. This man was just impossible.

The two finally resumed their tracks towards the large wooden doors, she maintained a healthy distance as she trailed behind him. Her hands shoved deep inside her jacket pockets, Kenna took the time to ponder over this irrational decision she’d made for herself and the mission.

From a logical standpoint, what she was doing now could be clearly flagged as an impending suicide. Walking straight into the devil’s bowels without any preparation or whatsoever was not an entirely strategic move on her part and it was sloppy. Very sloppy. If Kenna didn’t make it out of here, _if_ what Stefano had said was pure fiction and she got trapped in this sort of an amazing place, it would be another tangled mess that Juli had to deal with. Heaven knows she couldn’t allow that to happen.

But at the same time, listening to Stefano’s reasons and his knowledge of Union, the fact that he had approached her in good faith, Kenna knew she just had to take a leap of faith and come with him. As much as she couldn’t tell just how long she could stand being around the mad artist, a job’s a job. Kenna would like to think Stefano was merely a cog in the machine.

Kenna’s state of trance immediately snapped once she noticed Stefano came to a stop, his hand on the door handle, he took a glance at her as she stood next to him. His eye was gleaming, as if a kid was hiding a big surprise that was about to be revealed at any moment. Kenna thought it made him look boyish.

Stefano took the exact moment to push the doors open wide, revealing the grand foyer that hidden inside and once again, Kenna could feel her mouth just fell freely.

“Welcome to my humble abode. _Benvenuta,_ ” he welcomed proudly with arms spread wide as they entered.

If the façade had been a pleasing sight to look at, the inside was just as beautiful. The foyer was splendid, obviously, with a large chandelier hung from the high ceiling in the center of the room, sparkling and illuminating the black and white linoleum floor below. Several furnitures and decorations scattered neatly throughout the room. 

A hallway was on either side of the room whereas an imperial staircase laid across the room, a withstanding pillar with ornamental designs stood on each side to support the upper levels. 

“Humble, huh?” Kenna muttered under her breath once she was out of his earshot.

Clearly, his definition of ‘humble’ simply either this level of grand or that was just plain sarcasm that had come out of his mouth. If his intention was indeed the latter, though, someone seriously needed to beat the sense out of his smug ass. While Kenna had to admit, the estate clearly reflected his personality well she only wished Stefano didn’t have to be snobbish about it. Not everyone had been born with a silver spoon in their mouth.

Her gaze was still taking every inch of the surroundings when she noticed the upper level was barely visible due to an enormous red curtain that segregated the area. Kenna could feel her eyebrows furrowed. _Curious,_ though decided not to press on the issue as she found a large painting of an old man clad in suit situated in the middle of the stairs. His sharp lines and countenance strangely reminded her of someone.

“That’s my grandfather,” Stefano suddenly appeared right beside her, his stare also finding the painting with a smile that she couldn’t identify. If Kenna wasn’t mistaken, she thought that was the most genuine smile she’d ever seen on him. “The illustrious _signore_ Marcello Valentini, undoubtedly the greatest painter in the world. He was the Michelangelo of our generation, the Dali, the Rembrandt, the Picasso, his art was every bit of perfection.”

Stefano looked at her and pointed his finger at another large oil painting in a gilded frame on the other side of the room.

“That’s one of his painting over there,” he said before making his way towards it, Kenna followed accordingly. “The Hanging Gardens of Babylon, a marvelous embodiment of a man’s true love declaration to his wife. I’m sure you are well aware of the tale?” when Kenna nodded tersely, he brightened and clapped his hands once. “ _Perfetto,_ this was his own imagining of the said world.”

With that, Kenna took a long regard at the painting; the lush green foliage and colorful flowers cascading from the sky. Frankly, she had opined his exaggeration for the painting was basically biased since it was his grandfather that he was worshipping on the pedestal, but looking at the artistry of it… it _was_ remarkable. His style almost reminded her of Renoir’s craftsmanship. Though Kenna decided to keep her opinion to herself with an approving nod.

“It’s nice.”

Stefano instantly looked at her as if she had gone mad or something.“Nice? You call this masterpiece just _nice_ ? _Madonna,_ and here I thought you clearly understand art.”

There was a sheer mockery in his voice, that Kenna simply groaned.

“Okay, fine, I was going to say this painting precedes all of the Hanging Gardens paintings I’ve seen before. I just don’t want to inflate your ego,” she admitted, purposely avoiding his gaze as she looked down at her boots. “Happy?”

Stefano merely shrugged. “It won’t. I can’t take credits for this _chef-d'œuvre._ But it’s nice to know you haven’t lost your sense of the true meaning of art.”

“Whatever. Look, is that all you wanted me here for?”

When Kenna looked at him again, she noticed he was giving her an enigmatic smile. “Of course not. This way.”

Once again, Kenna found herself on Stefano’s tail. She let him escorted her onto the right wing of the mansion, passing through the corridor where she took the opportunity to take a glance at every opened door; there was the music room, the dining room that situated right across the hall and a glass-fronted door that she could deduce to lead to the patio. Then there was this fancy display cabinet with a mirror with framed photos, curios, and other various objects. Kenna absentmindedly felt her steps faltered at the picture of a young boy with the old man in the painting.

“Wait a second,” realization hit Kenna like a train as she turned her head to Stefano, her brows snapped together. “This isn’t just _a_ safe house, isn’t it? This is _literally_ your house.”

There was almost this wistful look on his face, then Stefano looked away from her, to a distant past only he could see. He answered. “No, this isn’t just a safe house. This was my grandfather’s house, the house in which I grew up in.”

Kenna nodded, but had almost wanted to ask why. Why built a personal memory inside the STEM and what could he attain from it? But eventually decided it wasn’t essential. She wasn’t here to probe on his background, anyway. Let the man bask in his past, if he wanted. Besides, Kenna still had a piling list of questions in her pocket and she wasn’t in any intention to use up her quota for such matter.

Off the hallway, to the left, was their destination. Stefano, still being strangely affable and gentlemanly, held open the door for her to what it appeared to be a study office.

The office was spacious and opulent with mahogany bookcases, stretching upward to the ceiling whereas a desk table sitting in the middle. In the back of the room was a billiard table with a red velvet cloth, a simple rug underneath and a chandelier— dripping with strings of crystals— dangled above it. The rest of the space was taken by two single leather armchairs, a custom-built minibar and a turntable with a built-in radio.

Stefano quickly ushered her to one of the armchairs only with a hand gesture. Kenna watched him sauntered towards the turntable as she sat down, feeling the plushness of the leather seat with guns discarded on the floor and the heavy pull of sleep that she had tried to neglect earlier. But running around Union finding clues and keeping herself save from whatever had tried to kill her for hours wasn’t exactly a walk in the park. She had barely had a good night sleep before she came here, after all. God, she could use a little pick-me-up right now.

“Ah, much better,” Stefano uttered as a classical music filled the air. She agreed with him, the song was oddly soothing, the sweet sound of the piano keys was like heaven against her ears. Like she could imagine herself out of this hoi polloi and retreated to somewhere peace and quiet. Just how simple such life could be, she naively imagined.

“Do you want anything to drink?”

When Kenna looked up this time, she found by the minibar. He was holding a bottle of wine in his hand.

“You don’t happen to have coffee, do you?” Kenna asked lamely. He shook his head and she made a face. Well, she had to try her luck, right? “A soda?”

Stefano instantly grimaced at her as if he’d just bitten a lemon. “No, of course not. Who even drinks such tasteless and appalling beverages anyway?”

“The kind who has a tongue,” Kenna retorted. “You know what, I’ll just have anything you’re having.”

With drinks in hands, Stefano walked back up to her. Kenna muttered laconic thanks as he handed her her glass, their fingers brushing each other’s in the process and she stilled. Kenna had no idea what to make of that. Then she saw him unbuttoning his suit jacket with his free hand and plopped himself onto the armchair with a faint sigh, his legs crossed. She, in return, simply rested her leg horizontally over the knee of her other leg and sipped her drink, trying to appear neutral.

So, here they sat across from each other, gaze intense, an uneasy silence settled between them except their heads were an uproar of overflowing questions. It was like a Mexican standoff in which their weapon was their mouths and wit, and Kenna could practically feel the verbal sparring just about to occur at any moment.

As if on cue, Stefano broke the silence.

“Now, that we’re here, I promised you some answers, didn’t I? And fortunately for you, I’m a man of my word. Just as long as you’ll answer mine, of course.” Kenna let out a tetchy sigh at his remark, Stefano merely shrugged innocently. “A deal’s a deal, my dear. Although since I was the one who initiated this, I believe I have the honor to take the first turn.”

“Ugh, fine,” Kenna replied in annoyance. “Shoot away.”

“Who are you?”

“I’m Kenna,” Kenna smirked mischievously, obviously teasing him.

Stefano smirked back. “Nice try.”

“Well, that’s what you asked, isn’t it?”

“I mean _who_ are you besides your name.”  
  
Kenna merely paused, her bottom lip chewed. Her mind internally debating over the issue and whether she should trust her senses. But again, considering she had come to this point, to _his_ home, to this terribly impractical decision, she might just have to suck it and see.

“My name is MacKenna Kidman, or Kenna for short. I’m thirty-one, dunno if that’s necessary. I was born in Cedar Hill, a small and ugly town, by the way. I’ve resided in Krimson City for ten years now,” she finally answered. Stefano, on his part, seemed mildly astonished by how Kenna willingly to participate in this play they were enacting.

He had just opened his mouth when Kenna interjected. “My turn. Where the hell is Lily?”

He chuckled darkly, his eye flashing vividly that said _you are playing my game_ _now_.

“Impatient, are we? Come on, you can do better than that, Kenna dear. What’s a climb if you simply rush the process and missed out all the spectacular views in your wake?” He sipped on his drink as Kenna began to mull once more. “Let the questions build up slowly. It’s more exciting that way, after all.”

“Fine, fine. Whatever. Who are you?”

“Stefano Valentini. I was born in a city called Florence in Italy. As you are well aware, I am an artist, but more into the photography field. I used to be a war photographer before I lost an eye on the battlefield.”

Kenna was taken aback by this knowledge. “Oh, I… that’s horrendous. I’m sorry.”

“I’ve made my peace with it,” he said nonchalantly. As if years of receiving such sympathy had bored him. “I’d like to think in certain times, sacrifices need to be made in order for us to attain the higher level."

“You mean like sacrificing countless of lives for the sake of your art?”

A low-fucking-blow. But again, Kenna had always been someone who didn’t know when to keep her mouth shut. At least the dangerous grin that Stefano shot from behind the rim of his glass was not an indication of murder.

“Who is your favorite painter?” Stefano asked instead.

“Klimt, but Matisse runs a close second. Have you always been a photographer? I mean your grandfather was a painter, have you always taken this route?”

“Yes, he bought me my first analog camera when I was eight and have been obsessed with photography ever since. I love the idea of capturing a human soul, sights, things— even the most mundane and find the beauty in them, turning them into a visual poetry. Especially death. Death is a mystery, no solid pictures ever come to mind when you think of death. But with photography, you see it. The termination of a soul, how their skin withers away, their eyes roll back as they stare into their own demise. It’s beautiful.”

Kenna raised her eyebrow at his explanation. Never had she heard someone extolled death quite like he did. But then again, he murdered people for art, for fuck’s sake. It seemed you would have to lose your mind to understand his.

“Yeah… well, I can’t say that I understand about the _death_ part, but I agree with the photography. With just a camera and film and you get to create art.”

Stefano nodded approvingly at her answer, awed. “Exactly. You _do_ understand.”

Kenna simply dismissed his comment with a smirk.

“Have you ever been here before?”

“Yes, I have. And speaking of Union, how long have you been here?” she started to kick her question up a notch, he noticed.

“I’ve been here long enough to peruse every inch of this place like the way I read Shakespeare. Even before everything went spiraling out of control.”

“Yeah, but for how long? I want numbers, estimations.”

“My estimation? I’d say two months tops,” Stefano answered calmly, shifting slightly in his seat as he enjoyed his drink once more.

Two months. That was one heck of a duration to stay in a virtual world such as Union. Kenna herself had never stayed for longer than a week, and the effect that came afterward had always been relatively strange once she resumed her daily basis in the real world. She’d tended to get confused between what was real and vice versa, like her mind hadn’t had properly functioned for the duration of her recovery before she’d get the pass to jump back in the machine.

Imagining having to stuck in here for two months. That ought to drive someone crazy, she thought. Thought that didn’t seem to apply to Stefano

“Why are you here?”

Kenna gave him a look as if saying _don’t be stupid._

“You know why I’m here,” drawled Kenna.

“Yes, but you seem to hate MOBIUS with every living cell in your body. And if my memory still serves me correctly, you said that you _‘don’t work for those greedy bastards’_ anymore,” Stefano pointed out matter-of-factly. “Hence, it leaves me with the question, why? Why are you here?”

She raised an eyebrow. Genuinely impressed by his deduction. “Jesus, Stefano, what are you? Sherlock Holmes?”

“Being an artist requires me to be perceptive of my surroundings, my dear Kenna. It’s only natural,” he replied smugly. Kenna stuck her tongue out as he chuckled. “And are those questions I hear?”

“Bite me.”

“Hmm, gladly,” Stefano purred lowly, his deep voice punctuated the word and Kenna had to suppress a shudder that clawing its way on her spine.

“Shut up. You know what I mean,” Kenna huffed loudly and took a large gulp of the wine. “And I’m here because… because I need to do this. Because it’s about goddamn time someone pulls MOBIUS down a peg. I ain’t letting them fooling people anymore.”

Kenna wondered if Stefano caught the sentiment behind her explanation, because she had certainly, _carelessly_ slipped her emotion out in the open. If he had been anything but an enemy, maybe she could at least feel nonchalant about it.

But somehow, Stefano understood. It was apparent by the way his face scrunched up.

“ _Sì,_ I’d have to agree with you on that one.

“They fooled you too, didn’t they?” She asked, her voice raw and surprisingly soft. “Used you for their own means and—”

“Mold you into something you are not. Yes, they did that. They think you are expendable, as if you’re—”

“A pawn in their game.”

“Exactly,” Stefano finished with a deep sigh. He placed his glass on the side table and reclined on the leather seat. Kenna merely inched forward, her elbows on her thighs.

“Stefano, where is Lily?” She thought right now ought to be the perfect time to ask that. Heck, they were climbing pretty high now, alright? Or whatever the hell Stefano’s figure of speech was.

Stefano looked at her, his gaze was steady and deliberate. And Kenna waited impatiently, her fingers drummed on the expensive glass. She took another sip.

“She’s alive, I know that just as much,” Stefano announced with minimal eye contact. “She’s with her mother.”

“Myra? But that’s impossible, they say she’s been missing for weeks,” Kenna uttered incredulously that her mouth was still left hanging open.

This was essential. But then if Lily was indeed with Myra, how come anyone hadn’t heard from her all this time?

All the while Kenna pondered in her seat, Stefano straightened his posture and stared. She certainly didn’t notice when he shifted forward in his seat, extended his hand to her face, unblinking, to close her mouth shut. The leather felt absurdly cold on her lips and Kenna nearly dropped her glass. Her alcohol-foggy head was practically screaming _What the fuck?_ with a whole host of anger that Kenna had forced to emanate. He’d just crossed her personal space here, she should be beyond furious right now. But no, she was just too dumbfounded to do something about it.

Stefano pulled back from her even before she could have had the chance to swat his hand away. His eye was still solely on her lips when he said, “Missing, but not dead. She’s… not entirely herself, so to speak.”

She blinked at him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Kenna spluttered, unaccountably nervous. She wondered if the question was a double entendre to his action prior or Myra.

He didn’t answer. Instead, he asked, “Who is Juli?”

Stefano’s question instantly pulled Kenna back to her feet from wherever her thoughts had brought her back then. And she immediately froze in her place as a sense of dread took place.

“What did you say?”

“Juli. Or Jules, those two in between,” he waved his hand back and forth. “You keep talking to that person over and over again on that device of yours,” Stefano then studied her seriously for a moment, his eye lit up with interest. “Your significant other, perhaps?”

“She’s my sister, you prick! What the hell?!” She replied in clipped tones. She didn’t even want to know how in the hell he could even come up with such assumption, but it made Kenna positively want to reach out for something sharp and hit him in the head.

“ _Perdono,_ it was just out of curiosity. I didn’t mean to offend you,” He raised his hands up in defense, humor— or was it relief?— overtook his features. “Was it your sister that you saw back there with the creature, I wonder?”

She ignored his second question with a wicked glare.“Who is _he_?”

“Fair enough. It is your turn now anyway. _He_ goes by the name of Father Theodore. He’s a MOBIUS agent— or was, given that he’s gone rogue now, to put it mildly. I’m sure you or some of your colleagues would recognize him,” he explained.

“Theodore? As if _the_ Theodore Wallace?”

“ _Forse,_ maybe. I have only known him under the name of Father Theodore. He’s dangerous, Kenna. I’ve seen how he operates, how he twists his words and wraps you around his blazing fingers. He’d trawl up your deepest fears and thoughts, and use them against you.”

His voice was firm, though Kenna was sober enough to take the candid look on his face. This was personal, she ruled out. Theodore had done something to Stefano and obviously, it affected him in a great deal. But was it wise to trust a stranger’s words— and not just any stranger, a murderer’s words?

Alas, he saw the conflict in her as clear as the day. “You don’t trust me?”

“Is that a question or…”

“I believe it’s my turn, so yes, it is,” he confirmed, and she sighed apologetically.

She couldn’t give him the verdict now. Her head was just too overwhelmed by this plethora of information she’d acquired from him to think properly right now.

“I assume you want to include me in your grand plan to bring him down then?” she decided.

Fortunately, Stefano didn’t seem to mind. “ _Sì._ Though to inform you, at this very moment I am at a complete disadvantage. Myra has Lily, and Theodore happens to have her father in captive.”

She looked at him, goggled-eyed. “Wait, Sebastian’s alive?”

“He is.”

“But why?” She quickly clarified. “I mean why did he take Sebastian?”  
  
“Theodore thinks if anyone could coax a little girl to stop playing in the park and come home, it would be none other than her parents. And since the mother is out of the question..."

"Sebastian is his only bet.”  
  
Stefano smiled. "Exactly."

“And you’re planning on getting him out for yourself.”

His smile grew wider.

“For us,” he corrected. “This is a win-win solution for all of us, you see? You’d get to finish your job, Sebastian would get his chance to save his family, and as for me, well... I’d get to finish my masterpiece.”

She wanted to ask _What masterpiece?_ Though chose not to press on the matter.

“But where do I fit into the picture?” Kenna inquired again, not understanding where he was heading. “Sorry, because the last time I was a part of your plan, I was the _fucking_ picture.”

He threw his hands in the air. “You won’t let that rest, will you?”

“Maybe not,” she teased. “And what makes you think that I would agree to affiliate with you anyway?”

Stefano sat back again. “Because I’m the only one who can take you to him. I know where he dwells and this place better than any of you, as you’ve noticed. You _need_ me. Think of it, you can be Alice, and I’ll be the Cheshire Cat. Your loyal, cryptic guide.”

“Cryptic is the last thing that I need right now. And I doubt you’re even loyal.”

“I’ll let you be the judge of that,” his lips quirked up in amusement. “And as for you, I need your expertise. It’s blindingly evident that you are a much-skilled fighter than I am, and your inside knowledge of MOBIUS could be more than useful.”

“Sounds like you only want to use me for your own means,” she grumbled.

“Look, everybody will always want something out of everyone. You can’t deny it, it’s just the law of the human nature. Some people would want to control you, manipulate you. You and I have experienced first-hand how those bastards fooled and crushed us. I’m having none of that anymore. I only wish to watch them perish,” Stefano turned serious all of the sudden, his tone grim leaving no room for an argument.

“I have never denied it from the start that I wanted your assistance, Kenna. But in return, I’m willing to do the same for you. Theodore is not short of his zealots, and two is a better odds than one, don’t you think? If my words aren’t enough, I hope my action could speak for itself.”

Once again, Stefano had a point. Goddamn if he didn’t have a point.

“Alright, if I say yes to this arrangement— _”_ Kenna placed her glass on the table and lifted her finger, pointed it at him in the universal gesture to dictate. “ _If_ we’re doing this, I take full control of my own actions, you hear me? I’ll listen to you, but don’t treat me like I’m your goddamn PA or something.”

“I have no intention of treating you in that certain way, _mia cara._ I promise you, _”_ he gave an acknowledging look.

“Good. And I’m getting the girl and her family out.”

“Duly noted,” Stefano nodded his head solemnly. “Now, if you’re quite finished, I believe there is one more room for one last question.”

She tilted her head to the side, the way when a dog was confused **.** “What is it?”

“Can you trust me now?” he asked, his voice merely above whisper had the music was any louder, she might have missed it.

Then Stefano looked at her for a long moment, it was like he was mapping her face with his eye and it was _intense_. And he was waiting. Kenna had to hold her breath the entire time, but she stared at him back, letting his visage embedded in her brain as she thought of all the things he’d revealed earlier.

Obviously, only fools would affiliate themselves with the likes of Stefano.

But unfortunately, Kenna had never been the wiser one.


	8. For Auld Lang Syne

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Basically, this is just going to be another filler cause I want to give you readers a glimpse of Kenna and Yukiko's friendship and how much they put their trust in each other. Because, I'm sorry, but how the developers treated her character was just appalling. Yukiko Hoffman was by far one of the best characters in the entire series, and I'm here doing her justice. Enough said. 
> 
> Of course, I would like to thank moi mrscrankypants! Without her, well... I dunno what I'd be without her. I love you gal! Do throw away that angst and good luck keeping up with your prompts! And to my baby bro, thank you for all the help and advices. You are awesome and I love you :*
> 
> Lastly, enjoy. If you like leave a review, if you don't leave a review.

_Her footfalls echoed throughout the rickety staircase, loud and menacing just like the claps of thunder as she raced towards the upper level with every ounce of strength. Her mind was focusing solely on that_ _scream of distress, the one that set the fire inside her running._

_She tumbled on the last stair and fell on the hardwood floor on her shoulder. She swallowed the pain like a bitter pill, refusing to let anything hinder her from her objective and rose to her feet._

_“Juli!” Kenna bellowed, swaying her way towards the door, the one with the plaque ‘Juli’ with an angel ornament on it where her sister’s scream only grew louder. She tried the doorknob but appeared to be locked. She banged on the door and shouted. “Juli! Juli, I’m coming!”_

_Kenna could hear movements from the inside of the room, someone was thrashing something. The sound of the bedside lamp shattered on the floor and she knocked out the door using her good shoulder._

_"Juli, I_ **_—_ ** _” whatever words Kenna wanted to say died in her throat upon entering the room. There was no one there._

_“Juli?” she tried again, swiveling her head around the room when the door abruptly closed behind her. Kenna turned around, appalled. She went to the door once more with measured caution only to find it locked._

_And even in her own dream, Kenna could sense terror clouding over her even before it greeted her. She just knew. As fire alight from the door handle and onto her hand, she shrieked. As fire scraped and devoured her flesh like termites chewing on wood, she felt a hand on her shoulder._

_“Th_ _e old has passed away; behold, the new has come.”_

 _The person_ **_—_ ** _a man, murmured in her ear just before her vision blacked out._

* * *

Kenna awoke with a gasp, her thoughts like a train wreck. She was visibly pale under the dim lights of the room.

What was that? What in the actual _fuck_ was that?

Of all the places that her dream could have taken her, why insisted on taking her back there? And not to mention, why would even her head twist things up like that? Worse, Kenna somehow could still feel the heat from before, like pin-pricks on her skin.

It riled up her and now she felt worse than the first time she landed in the juvenile center, completely battered after a row with pretty much the Titan of a person for having tried to mug him. In Kenna’s own defense, she hadn’t known it belonged to him or she would have had avoided the incident completely.

But back to the matter in hands, Kenna was full blown pissed. It was as if this place was taunting her, rubbing the most personal and deepest part of her life on her face and laughed at it.

Whatever level of hell that she’d been thrown into, she would want to meet whatever creature was guarding it, gave it a piece of her mind and threatened Charon to escort her out, thank you very much.

Because seriously, fuck Union.

“Must have been quite a dream.” said a voice from across the room. Kenna tilted her head to the side to see Yukiko Hoffman neatly aligning papers and slipped them in inside a manila. Her straight jet-black hair, even darker than Kenna’s, glimmered in the stark windowless room like the sea in the night.  

Kenna sat up on the couch she’d sprawled on and sighed, still feeling miserable. Placing the heels of her gloved hands on her eyelids, she let the adrenaline in her veins to slow down. Again, Kenna took the comfort knowing that that part of her life had ended. That it was only a dream **_—_ ** although a patently cruel one, but a dream nonetheless.

“Was it that obvious?”

“You were pretty much thrashing around and mumbling incoherently in your sleep, so yes,” the woman shrugged, her attention was still glued to the papers before shifting to Kenna. Her eyes narrowed. “And you look pretty pale, Kidman.”

Kenna sat up straighter.

“I’m okay,” she lied. “Just some stupid dream. Weariness must have caused it.”

“Figures. You had nearly stumbled on your way to the couch before hogging it, anyway. I would have kicked you out if you had snored any louder.”

Kenna couldn’t help but chuckle. “Rude. You know, I could have stayed awake if your coffee hadn’t tasted like crap, Yukiko.”

Hoffman pouted as she raised her mug and sipped. “I don’t know, it tastes fine to me,” her face twisted into a grimace. “ _Ish._ ”

She merely rolled her eyes. “Now I know you’re just teasing me.”

Kenna reached out for her discarded jacket on the floor and wore it. She then made her way to where Hoffman was sitting.

“I’ve gathered everything you need regarding the Stable Field Emitter. Schematics, map points, security codes, they are all in that file,” Hoffman handed her the file, Kenna noticed the psychologist’s scrawl on the cover. “And these are the dossiers for Theodore and Stefano. Just as you requested.”

She gestured towards the other two manila folders on the desk table where both covers flipped open. Her eyes instantly found the photograph of Stefano, clad in a black and white suit and she simply stared, distracted.

Kenna quickly shifted her attention to Theodore’s dossier and skimmed over the texts when she could feel Hoffman’s eyes on her. Her head was still too jumbled to even peruse some of the contents into her head.

“Yeah, I think they should be enough to help out,” she decided to regard them later. One where her head had returned to her body, preferably. Well, not literally. “Thanks for the help, Hoffman. I owe you one.”

“More like more than one, don’t you think?” she alluded humorously and Kenna grinned.

“What was that? I thought once upon a time you said that generosity is the virtue that produces peace.”

Hoffman laughed and gave her arm a nudge. “That’s Buddhism. And don’t test me, Kidman.”

Easy to say that Hoffman was probably one the few individuals that Kenna actually considered the “good guys” in her book despite standing under MOBIUS’ umbrella and their moral depravity. She was reasonable and cool-headed, never hesitated to help the others mainly because her position as one of the company’s psychologist, though, there were countless of times that Hoffman actually helped out of pity, not duty.

She had aided Kenna back then when she went through some difficult phase in her life, providing advices that would give a “conciliatory” yin to her “troublesome” yang. Hence, she respected the living hell of the woman.

“Can I ask you something, though? Why Theodore? I mean, what does he have anything to do with all of this?” Hoffman enquired.

“All of it,” answered Kenna as she hoisted herself up on the table. Careful enough not to bump on the computer and Hoffman’s brewing mug. “He’s bat-shit crazy. He’s the reason why this all started in the first place.”

“Wait, _what?_ ”  

“You heard me. Turns out that man is not like your average textbook motivational speaker and he wants Lily for himself. Have you ever seen those creeps with flamethrowers running around here?”

“I have.”

“Well, they are his puppets. I don’t have the slightest clue what the heck did he do to them, but they are his doing.”

“Wait a second, wait a second, not that I’m not buying this new set of information from you, but _what the hell?_ ” she blurted. “This is Theodore Wallace that we’re talking about. That man hardly curses for all I know.”

“Yes, I know that we’re talking about the same Theodore _fucking_ Wallace, but believe me when I say that that man is a murderer, a despot and a psychopath at its best. And he’s been slithering right under our nose the whole time. I hope you all have a backup plan for the Plan, because obviously he just screwed up the whole parade,” Kenna stared at the wall for a long time, pondering. “And Myra…”

Hoffman huffed sadly. “I still can’t believe that she turns… well, whatever you said she is now. Have you told Juli about this?”

“Yeah. She didn’t take the news well, either.”

“No doubt.”

The entirety of Hoffman’s safehouse fell into a silence then. And yet, the room felt loud enough for Kenna as if both of their heads were projecting their thoughts in the air. Their thoughts were a riot, a collision of doubt and trepidation.

“Shit,” Hoffman suddenly groaned. An elbow on the table, she used her free hand to massage her temples. “ _Shit._ We are screwed, aren’t we? First Myra, now Theodore...”

“Maybe,” Kenna conceded. “But do have some faith, Hoffman. For a psychologist, you are a pretty tad pessimist.”

“Not a pessimist, just a realist. I don’t like our odds.”

“Neither do I,” she concurred. Kenna thought Hoffman had the right to be on edge at times like these.

“What about Stefano? What are you going to do with him?”

“Stefano is inessential. I found out that he was one of Theodore’s goons before went rogue,” said Kenna, her hand automatically reaching for his dossier. Her gaze once again fixated on his picture. “I only need his dossier as a… precaution.”

Hoffman’s brows drew together, positively confused. “Are you saying that he’s harmless?”

Kenna was so hard-pressed not to guffaw at the thought. She thought the world where Stefano Valentini was a harmless, benevolent human being would be the world where Kenna Kidman was a Nobel prize-winning chemist.  

“No, definitely, _definitely_ not harmless,” Kenna said, looking down to meet the psychologist in the eyes. “I mean he’s tried to kill me after all.”

“And he will do it again, Kenna. He’s dangerous,” Hoffman added solemnly. And Kenna’s face fell. Hoffman then gestured for his dossier that was on Kenna’s lap, looking worried. “You really need to read his dossier. I piled up some newspaper clippings about his testimony on Emily Lewis’ death and his words… they are troubling, to say the least.”

Her words creating bubbles of doubt in the pit of her stomach.

Regardless, Kenna dared to ask. “How troubling?”  
  
“Let’s just say on the scale of this-man-is-a-serial-killer troubling. I think he murdered that girl, Kenna.”

“Okay, but it’s not like we haven’t known that he _is_ a serial killer?” Kenna pointed out.

Hoffman shook her head, she had that look on her face that whenever she had one of her theories swimming inside her head. “It’s not just that. He’s a process-focused killer, Kenna. That makes him ten times more dangerous.”

Kenna quirked an eyebrow. “What does that mean?”

“Serial killers are classified into two types: act-focused and process-focused. Act-focused killers tend to kill quickly and mostly driven by the need to get rid of particular people. But process-focused killers… they enjoy the act, Kidman. They torture and find enjoyment from the slow death of their victims. They either kill for the thrill of it or because they wish to play ‘god’ of a person’s life. In Stefano’s case, I think he does it for the former.”

That shouldn’t be surprising.

A murderer was a murderer after all despite their categorization, despite their weapon of choice, despite their motives. Stefano killed a soul on his will, and she needed not to check how was her moral compass these days to know how vicious it was. But as far as Kenna perceived she’d thought he did it for the latter reason of Hoffman’s explanation. The idea of one enjoying torturing his victims… that was enough to make her stomach jumped on the trampoline and fell faceplant to the ground.

Some part of Kenna wanted to dispel the notion. Remembering that Hoffman had zero ideas about the uneasy truce that Stefano and she had made earlier, but at the same time, she couldn’t help the probability of her words rang in her head. True, he had said that he had no intention to kill her this time, but a person could always bend the truth, couldn’t they?

Once he achieved what he had aimed, and then what? Striking a deal with the devil himself wouldn’t guarantee that he would show you the way out of hell, she should have known better.

But again, what choice did she have?

“So now we have two psychopaths on the loose and I’m the one MOBIUS wanted to get the job done. Perfect. Just another day at the office,” Kenna lowered her head in her hands, nails scraping her scalp she definitely felt like tearing her hair out. Maybe she indeed wouldn’t leave this place sane once this is all over.

Or alive.

“ _Two_ high-functioning psychopaths,” Hoffman corrected. “While I have always hated using that term, but that’s what they are. Don’t forget that they managed to slip right through under the radar, because… Because of me.”

Kenna stared at Hoffman, her expression wistful. She realized that this was getting personal.  
  
“You couldn’t have known,” Kenna said kindly, displaying genuine pity.

“In which, I should have known. It’s my job to screen these people and prevent them from entering Union, Kenna, and here they are. This is all my fault,” she sighed dejectedly as she tried to collect her bearings, though looking even more frustrated with each second that her voice was on the verge of quivering.

How long had Hoffman been feeling this way? In her opinion, Yukiko was the last person that should be invested in this so-called guilt ** _—_** after all, being a part of MOBIUS was about making bad calls and expecting to feel nonchalant about it.

She did so little to contribute to the matter, and this whole god churning mess had already been havoc from the get-go. They all knew well the consequences if they disobeyed the Administrator’s commands. Once MOBIUS had your hands tied, choices meant nothing anymore.

“Listen, Yukiko, if you want to point your finger so badly at someone, be my guest, but point it at the right person. Because I’m not going to stand here and watch you take all the blame for this shindig. You could have spotted Stefano or Theodore, you could have screened dozens more like them and it wouldn’t matter because Union is just a part of Mobius’ cash machine, and machines ultimately break. Union is only a matter of time,” Kenna continued as she jumped off of the table. She then squatted down to meet her eye-level, her expression serious.

“What matters now is getting everyone out of here alive. The clock’s ticking. As much as it pains me to agree with that stuck-up bastard, he’s right. Second place is not an option.”

Hoffman huffed and then nodded mutely. She was beginning to coming back to her senses as she leaned back in her chair, her expression gradually softened.

“You’re right. There is so much at stake right now,” she concurred before facing Kenna again, certainty had finally resumed its rightful place on her face. “But know this, I won’t let you do all the legwork, Kenna. I won’t let you do this on your own.”  
  
“As much as I appreciate the offer, Yukiko, but no.” Hoffman appeared more than ready to protest, when Kenna raised a hand. “I sort of have a plan? Well, a plan, nonetheless, but I need to do this on my own.”

There was a brief pause. If she had appeared desperate then, now the psychologist was bewildered.

Hoffman gave her a warning look. “Kenna, what did you do?”

_Fuck._

“Hmm?”

“What. Did. You. Do?”

 _Fucking fuck._ She turned away from Hoffman’s questioning eyes.

“What do you mean ‘what did you do’?” she asked, trying her best to elude Hoffman’s question and gaze by idly picking a piece of lint from her jacket.

“You know perfectly well what I’m talking about and you know better than to lie to a shrink, MacKenna Kidman,” Hoffman glowered, she swivelled her chair around with arms crossed. “You better come clean with me or so help me, I’ll see it right through you.”

Kenna stood up and threw her hands in the air. “Fucking hell, Hoffman. Give a girl some slack, will you?”

“Not until you tell what did you do.”

“Okay, first of all, what makes you think that I’ve done something horrendous or something?”

“Because it’s you!” Hoffman pointed out as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, Kenna simply shot her a glare.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“Kenna!”

“Alright, alright. I told you I may or may not have a plan. It’s risky, but it’s a plan.”

“I’m sensing another incoming ‘but’ from you.”

“ _But…”_ she pinched the bridge of her nose, her other hand perched on her hip. Damn Hoffman and her analytical skills, she thought. “It may or may not involve him.”

Kenna felt like putting her hands over her ears as if she waiting for the bomb to detonate and melted her to bits.

Her brows knitted. “Him?”

“Want to take a guess?” Kenna prompted, and it didn’t even take a good whole minute until Hoffman’s face morphed into an utmost shock, mouth hanging open. There was a brief moment where it seemed Hoffman was registering the information before she went combust.

“Oh my god! Oh hell, Kenna, are you out of your mind?!”

“Maybe,” Kenna shrugged helplessly.

“What were you thinking?!” Hoffman was practically shouting at this point. “What the **_—_ ** _Jesus Christ_. To think that I just gave you a two-minute explanation about how dangerous Stefano is and it turns out you already had taken the impossible leap.”

“Look, I didn’t think. I followed my instincts and Stefano was the only reasonable option I had. I told you it’s risky.”

Ask a captain to see how deep can his submarine go, you’ll never know until you try it.

“It’s not risky, it’s plain _stupid!_ You are trying to get yourself killed, Kenna, and Juli will kill you even before he does when she finds out about this!” She rose from her chair and paced around the room back and forth in deep thought, hands fidgeting. Kenna couldn’t help but wonder what did exactly crossed the psychologist’s mind in that moment.

 _Murder,_ Kenna thought. _Probably murder._

“Now, this is where I could really rely on your discretion, Yukiko. My sister and the others are not in the ‘need to know’ column. They can’t know.”

“No. No way, don’t you think you are getting away with this,” Hoffman plainly disagreed.

“Look, do you think I like this? I’m putting my fucking life on the line here and there’s a chance that Stefano could stab me in the back once he’s done with me, but this is the only way that was given to me,” Kenna breathed deeply and leaned her back against the wall, looking frustrated and tired, and helplessly nearly out of her mind. “I don’t fucking care anymore. I just want everything to be done with.”

It was true. The more she thought about the whole deal with Stefano and the situation, the more she succumbed to this pain in her head. It was exerting. All she had in mind was getting the job done.

Hoffman observed her for a long moment, as if trying to consider the silver lining out of the circumstance and calm the storm that brewed within her. Eventually, much to Kenna’s favor, she nodded albeit rather unenthusiastically.

“Okay. Alright, but any first sign of trouble, I’ll rat you out. I’m not taking any chances leaving you with him,” still, the look on Hoffman’s face was akin to disapproval. But at least she understood enough to drop the subject.  

“Yeah, alright, whatever helps you sleep at night,” she dismissed her with a careless wave. Gathering the folders on the table and shoved them inside a brown messenger bag. “Now, if you’re done, I gotta go. I was expected to meet Stefano to discuss our next move.”

Kenna picked her belongings from the couch as Hoffman helped handed back her weapons. She muttered her thanks and proceeded to placed them back in their respective place. Hoffman’s worries began to assuage.

“I trust you, Kenna,” uttered the other woman.“I’m sorry if I was kind of hysterical earlier, but I want you to know that I’m behind you. One-hundred percent. I was just worried about your safety, that’s all.”

Kenna nodded. “I know. I know you’re only trying to be rational and I thank you for it. If it makes you any better, I promise I’ll be careful. I know what I’m doing **_—_ ** sort of **_—_ ** but I won’t let any of them have the upper hand. I’ll keep you updated on any developments.”

“Oh, and Kidman?” Hoffman suddenly piped up when Kenna was about to head towards the door. She instantly backpedaled. “Thank you. For what you said to me earlier, I appreciate it. And I’ll keep a tight-lipped about this, don’t worry. For old time’s sake.”

“And thanks for everything,” Kenna grinned easily. “Except for the coffee, of course.”

Kenna left as Hoffman laughed heartily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More Stefano and Kenna coming up next :)))))


	9. A Strange Arrangement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> more stefano and kenna as promised.  
> ﾍ(￣▽￣*)ﾉ

* * *

**_“From which stars have we fallen to meet each other here?”_ **

**_—_ ** **_Friedrich Nietzsche_ **

* * *

 

The street was strangely, thankfully devoid of any of those mutated creatures and heaven knows whatever that would want to kill her by the time Kenna arrived back at the Business District. Making the trip to the theater surprisingly becoming quite a stroll, though the circumstances didn’t give her any reason to not be on her guard. Enemies could prowl up from anywhere, anytime, she had to be ready. She had not to be caught off guard.

Thus, when Kenna felt a grip on her arm, she swiftly jerked off of their hold and twisted the person’s arm behind their back instead and pinned them against the nearest wall in a fluid moment of self-defense. Her breath hot on her cheeks, a burning sensation within her was clouding her mind. The intrepid Mobius agent within her was making a return that the manly groan of pain from the person before her had almost escaped her unnoticed despite how familiar he sounded.

Then it was if the wires in her head had reconnected that Kenna realized what she had done. And she could only still in her place like a gargoyle. Her eyes large.

“Stefano?” Kenna gasped, staring openly at his squashed profile then did a double take. She quickly undid the hold and backed away as if he had magically transformed into a poisonous flower or something.

A raspy chuckle emitted from the Italian man’s mouth, sounding genuinely amused before he slowly circled around to face her, a gloved hand running on one side of his cheek that had met the brick walls. There was no trace of annoyance in his countenance or whatsoever.

“Now that was… _ouch,_ ” he groaned again, face making a silly grimace. “That wasn’t what I had in mind of being pinned against the wall.”

Here was one of the most dangerous men Kenna had met in her life; the devil himself in which she had foolishly agreed on to collaborate with to bring another down and he was making a _fucking_ innuendo. She couldn’t decide whether to laugh or cry that she was so hard-pressed to mask the betraying smile that nearly crept up her face.

Instead, Kenna simply hid her face with her gloved hand on her nose bridge, wondering how in the hell she could get caught up in such madness.

“Fucking hell, Stefano, don’t do that,” her whole face morphed into a withering look, her voice lashing. Though she knew his action was involuntary, there were dozens of ways that her reaction could have gone to a violent end. “I could have shot you had I didn’t realize it was you!”

“Well, let us revel in the fact that you didn’t, yes?” he teased with a wild smirk, his bad eye lost beneath the bangs of his dark hair. Kenna could only roll her eyes and shake her head. Her only saving grace, she thought, was that Stefano seemed to appear nonchalant about their little incident despite the growing bruise on his pale cheek.

“What are you doing here? I thought you said to meet you up at the theater?” she asked. He was currently busy dusting away grime from his suit to meet her stare.

“You have gone longer than I had anticipated and I didn’t have the patience for it. Hence, I decided to surprise you the moment I saw you entering the district.”

Kenna crossed her arms, a challenge was written all over her face. “Why? You thought I’d crossed you or something?”

“No, no,” he answered simply, like telling a child that they were grabbing the wrong item from the shelf. “I simply thought if Theodore had gotten a hold of you, that’s all.”

“Oh…” her face somehow softened, feeling partially guilty for accusing him of such. In her own defense, she was still somewhat on edge from all the discussion she had had with Hoffman earlier, particularly regarding him.

“I wasn’t. Though a friendly tip, the next time you wanted to surprise me, just bring some balloons or a confetti or whatever,” replied Kenna, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Unless you want another bruise on your cheek in near future.”

Stefano grinned. “Noted. Did you get what you sought for?”

“I did,” answered Kenna, but decided not to elaborate.

“ _Bene._ Then let’s go back to the estate, shall we?”

Kenna nodded affirmatively, mentally preparing herself for the nauseating sensation that she had somewhat starting to accustom to from his power.

The world around them shook, glitched and bent, and the next thing Kenna knew, they were back to his so-called estate. There was this weird feeling where she could exhale in relief upon seeing the painting of Stefano’s grandfather. Somehow, despite finding herself once again in the lion’s den, she felt strangely safe.

The sound of his shoes tapping on the linoleum floor like a wake-up call to her, the pair then proceeded towards his study office side-by-side, their shoulders brushed against each other’s and by the time Kenna wondered whether she should slow her pace or drew back from him, they arrived at their destination. They entered the office as Stefano once again held the door open for her.

“I assume you have something that could benefit our mission, _mia cara_?” questioned Stefano.

“I do,” Kenna confirmed, rifling through the messenger bag Yukiko had given her and fished out a folder with _SFE_ written on the front. “Everything we need to cripple that asshole’s legs is in this file.”

The two approached the desk table. Stefano being kind enough to push aside his stuff to give space as Kenna laid the folder on the wooden desk and sprawled the map of Union with the map points for the Stable Field Emitter.

They stood next to each other, and once again, shoulders touching. Kenna buried her attention solely on the sound of the rustling of the papers and simply ignored his body heat or the view of his hand that rested next to her on the table.

His fingers were long and larger compared to hers. She wondered how his hands would look like without the gloves. Would they be boney? Blotchy? Or maybe strong and warm? Was there a scar he’d tried to hide or the leathers were purely theatrical? None of those were important right now, and yet they were the only thing she could think of.

She found the photograph of the Stable Field Emitter buried somewhere underneath the dozen of papers and passed it to him.

“What do you know about this?” Kenna asked, positively aware of the slight tremor in her voice. Her eyes not quite reaching his.

“This machinery?” he asked back and she nodded. He gave the picture a thorough look, his eye narrowed. “Not much— but first of all, I need to say that whoever took this photograph, I hope they were dead, if not, fired.”

Kenna rolled her eyes comically. “Really, Stefano?”

“Look at the angle! This picture demoralizes the very meaning of photography. A taint to our profession. _Disgustoso,_ ” he continued rambling in Italian. He was on the roll it seemed, which Kenna could only sigh annoyedly. Thankfully, he picked that up. “To answer _you,_ however, I don’t know much about this except that one time when one of the Mobius’ agents managed to activate it. It seemed to affect my powers.”

“That is the Stable Field Emitter. Mobius designed this to stabilize the environment and prevent Union from collapsing. You know like a fail-safe. That’s why it affected your powers.”

He waited and prompted. Noticing the catch in her voice. “And?”

“I thought if the machine can affect your powers— _”_

“It can affect his too,” he finished sourly. Seemingly distracted and troubled that Kenna could read him like an open book. “You want to activate the machine.”

Kenna at least had the decency to look guilty at that. She looked at him, her shoulders deflated and knew well just what crossed his mind then. Even if Kenna hadn’t known him that well at the time, but she understood enough that his powers were everything to him. They existed because he was within the machine’s reach and here she was proposing a plan in which putting that at stake.

“I knew you wouldn’t like this, but this is our only one-in-a-million chance. If Theodore can phase-shift around Union like you said, this machine is the only thing that could bring him down.”

He was massaging his right temple, the one with the bad eye as if he had a headache of the century. “Are you certain there is no other way?”

“I’ve given a long time trying to come up with something, but this is the only thing that I could think of. It can be a hit or miss, I know but… ” Kenna trailed off.

A ripple of uneasiness passed through the room. Stefano was considering the option over for a long moment, his features hardened, lips pursed. He looked like a nuclear warhead ready to explode. But as soon as his rage graced his face, as soon as it faded away.

“Well, it seems we don’t have any other option, do we?” He exhaled heavily, looking fixed and somewhat pensive. “But I’ll take the chance. If it means bringing him down.”

“Are you sure?” there was a silence _‘there’s no turning back after this, you know?’_ in her voice.

“I’m positive. He needs to pay, Kenna. And so does Mobius,” he clenched his fist. “They all need to pay.”

His thirst for revenge somehow reminded her of a bible passage that she’d heard at a sermon. _‘But if there is any further injury, then you shall appoint as a penalty life for life, eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot, burn for burn, wound for wound, bruise for bruise.’_

 _Exodus 21:25,_ she recalled.

So it was settled then.

Kenna then turned her attention back to the plans. “Mobius installed five machines all across Union, one in every district. Three had been activated prior to my arrival, which leaves us with the ones in the Union Nature Preserve and the Business District,” she pressed a finger on the map. “If Theodore’s stronghold had been hiding in one of these districts once the Field Emitters are online, we’ll know.”

“You can’t miss it. The building is about fifty-story tall, resembling an archaic gothic cathedral. It’s ridiculous. His throne room is on the top level.”

“Don’t tell me we’d have to climb like hundreds of stairs to get there?”

He cast a brief smile. “No, there’s an express elevator that can take us straight up to him, but it won’t be easy. His guards are everywhere.”

“Perfect. So, we’ll have to fight hordes of his zealots just to get to the top. Should be a piece of cake,” Kenna drummed her fingers on the table and sighed dejectedly. She shouldn’t expect any less from Theodore, but still, this made her head stir.

Stefano ignored her sarcasm and asked. “How do we activate the machines?”

Kenna handed him a small note containing the activation codes. “They are restricted to Mobius personnel only, however. So, I’ll need to be the one who activates it.”

He nodded and looked back at the map. “Okay, but what about the machine in the City Hall?”

“What about it?”

“I’ve seen one like this on the second level during my time there.”

“Oh, that’s one of the machines I told you that has already been activated. Sebastian did it before he disappeared.”

Stefano’s eyebrows furrowed. “Sebastian? But he’s never even set his foot there.”

She turned to him with mouth opened. “What?”

“Sebastian has never been to the City Hall, Kenna. Theodore had intercepted him before he got there,” explained Stefano. “Are you sure there isn’t an erroneous in your system?”

Realization dawned on her. That was why he was able to use his power and captured her back then. Sebastian had never activated the Field Emitter.

“But… but how?” Kenna frowned, her mind buzzing and jumping with hows and whys. It didn’t make any sense. “Juli told me he had done it. And it was later confirmed by…” Suddenly, she could feel her jaw dropped. “Oh, fuck.”

“ _Che problema c'è?_ ”

Kenna couldn’t understand a single word he said, except word _problema_. She stared blankly at the pool table across the room and replied. “O’Neal.”

“O’Neal? Ah, you mean the technician? _Sì_ , I’ve seen him running several errands for the _bastardo_. There is nothing you can do to him now,” Stefano informed, his voice showing no hint of emotion or whatsoever. Which wasn’t really staggering.

 _Poor Liam,_ Kenna thought. The asshole would literally enslave anyone just to get Lily, it was only a matter of time before he managed to tyrannize everyone.

She couldn’t let that happen.

“I know. Regardless, our Plan is in the pipeline. We can start with the one in the City Hall. It’s nearer and we’re both quite familiar with the area,” suggested Kenna.

“I agree. And my Guardian and Obscura can also provide support for us,” he concurred. “I will have them leave the area before we activate the machine.”

Kenna repressed a shiver at the mention of his… creations, remembering well how Stefano had summoned them to this very house earlier today, out of because he was on his streak; boasting and all. She’d thought she would have frightened to death when she met the gruesome giggling creature with the myriad of heads and the camera-headed monster.

_“Beautiful, aren’t they?” he had asked, looking like a proud father recounting of his children’s accomplishments. Kenna was too dumbfounded to say anything. “They are my most prized possessions, my Iliad and Odyssey, and I’d like you to get to know them.”_

_“Why exactly?”_

_“We’re a team now, aren’t we? I thought it’s time for you to meet the other members of the team from my part.” As he said that, Obscura was making its way towards her. Its head studied her in the most peculiar and horrifying way Kenna had had ever encounter before giving her shoulder a nudge. A strange mechanical purr emitted from her as she gave it a gentle pat, her hand shaking._

_Stefano gave a winning smile at the sight. “See? She even likes you already. I’d take that as a start of something wonderful.”_

Kenna inwardly shook her head and dispelled the image of the two creatures from her head. She finally found the strength to find her voice and asked.

“How do you want to approach the place, though? Should we go subtle or obvious?” Kenna inquired. “Though knowing you, somehow I don’t think subtlety is your forte.”

He shot her an impish grin and winked. “You’re starting to know me quite well, Kenna darling. When I approach my targets, I tend to let them know I’m coming for them. But it’s not the method that matters, in my opinion, it’s the art of how not getting caught.”

Kenna smothered a laugh. She wasn’t going to pretend to agree or anything because this man was impossible to understand sometimes.

Well, most of the time.

“Yeah, yeah.” There was a brief silence. She shied away from his gaze and studied the schematics instead. “What will happen to your powers?” her voice small, that she had hoped he missed it.

Even from her peripheral vision, Kenna could tell he was smiling. He’d heard it, to her utmost disappointment. His gaze was almost too kind for someone like him.

“I will be fine, Kenna,” assured Stefano, mouth still quirking. “And I’ve… endured worse. Once we leave the area, my powers will return to normal. Don’t worry, _cara._ ”

“I’m not,” Kenna retorted and instantly regretting why did she ask him that in the first place and for being brash to him at the same time.  “That should conclude our plan, then. I’d say we hit the place as soon as possible.”

“Later,” Stefano raised a hand and Kenna tilted her head to see him staring into the distance. She tried to follow his gaze only to find the chandelier. “I’m seeing multiple hostiles in the area. Disciples, he calls it. I’d say wait until they leave us with the undead.”

How in the hell he could have known that she didn’t want to know. “Fair enough. Gives us more time with the preparation, anyway.”

With that, Kenna grabbed the messenger bag at her feet and carelessly thrust the file inside. The map was probably in a ruin now. Stefano seemed amused by this.

“Why don’t you stay here?” Stefano asked casually as if he was suggesting to pick the cream over sugar. Kenna, on the other hand, could feel her whole body ceased to function. It was only fortunate her back was on him.

“What?”

“Stay here. There’s a spare bedroom that you can sleep in, I’m sure. And strategic-wise, it’s better for us not to separate at times like these, don’t you think?”

She turned and looked at him as if he’d grown a second head. “Stefano Valentini, what are you on about?”

He rolled his eye. “Kenna Kidman, dear, why do you have to always hold such poor judgment on me? What I’m ‘on’ about is your safety. That’s all,” Stefano said defensively, he sounded slightly offended.

“I can perfectly take care of myself, thank you very much.”

“No doubt. But this is Theodore, he would do anything to hunt one of us down. My house happens to be the safest place all over Union. _Stay._ ”

“Oh, is that so? Because I don’t see any guards patrolling the estate or some sort of intricate defense mechanism installed in here.”

“I’ve played his game, remember? I know his moves. Why did you think I built this estate in the first place?”

“I don’t know, and I don’t give two shits why. I’m _not_ staying here,” she said curtly, already stalking toward the door when he appeared before her out of thin air. Kenna backpedaled almost instantly before crashing into him.

“Stef—!”

“Listen,” he interrupted, his hands on her shoulders and she nearly flinched. “If something happens to you, all of this planning means nothing. I know that you can take care of yourself, I’ve never doubted that, but Theodore is not like anything you’ve ever met before. He could have known about our plan now, he could be planning an assault on either of us at this very moment. He could do _anything_ and I _won’t_ take a chance on that.”

She should have shoved him out her way and leave, she should have yelled in his face right now but Kenna found herself in the absence of words. He patently had no _right_ to decide what’s right for her and not. But there was something in his face that Kenna had never seen in him before, something absolutely raw and the fear in his eye made her wonder whether he was an astonishing actor or the Eudaemon of humanity in disguise of a Cacodemon.

And at the same time, Kenna could begin to hear Yukiko’s words ringing somewhere in the back of her head.

 _A high-functioning psychopath._ Among of all the endless list of labels she had, that was what Hoffman had called him. Frankly, Kenna had never met a high-functioning psychopath/serial killer before, but would a psychopath look at her the way he was doing right now? Would a serial killer ensure her safety to this degree? They weren’t even friends for god’s sake, but here he was. And it puzzled her.

 _He_ puzzled her.

And somehow despite her conviction, she knew that Stefano had a reason. And she despised him for that.

Kenna blinked and looked away, frowning. “You don’t take no for an answer, do you?”

“No, particularly for a case of you.”

She growled. “Didn’t I tell you that I take full control of my own actions?”

“Yes, you did,” he smiled faintly. “But you also told me that you’d listen to me.”

Kenna didn’t answer him. Instead, she let him guided her out of the office and toward what she assumed as one of the master bedrooms. The bedroom was warm beige with a four-poster queen-sized bed and elegant damask curtains and was, without a doubt, two times larger than her own apartment combined. Though it might not hold the same kitsch her home had, the room felt surprisingly comfortable.

“If it makes you feel any better, my chamber is on the other side of the house,” Stefano uttered from behind her. He was standing in the doorway with hands shoved in his pockets.  

Kenna dropped the bag on the carpet floor and sigh. She didn’t want to look at him, didn’t want to speak and she hated him for being so goddamn cautious and reasonable and she hated herself for being so easy to comply with it.

And perhaps Stefano could sense that as well, because by the time she looked over her shoulder, he was already long gone.

* * *

 

The dossiers that Hoffman had provided for Kenna were proven to be useless. Nothing remotely essential was extracted from the contents except for some bits about Theodore’s seminars— which in all honesty, she didn’t really give a fuck about— and Stefano’s biographical information which was more likely to be nothing but a Pulitzer Prize-winning fiction had Kenna been in Hoffman’s position back then, she might have given him the all-clear as well.

Well, at least she thought it was a ruse because there wasn’t even a mention of his grandfather in it. Which only led Kenna to a conclusion either both his house and his stories were a charade or he was this clever to have hidden his background from Mobius.

So far, Stefano had offered her nothing but his trust to her, but trust was a rare gem to find these days, and no doubt in a place such as Union. And after getting to know deeper of his true nature, it was as if her trust meter was flashing with a red indicator of a possible, imminent danger. Yet the more the warning sign rang in her head, the more Kenna swayed towards the edge; like a moth to a flame.

Kenna tossed the dossier on the bed next to her and huffed. Staring at the ceiling wishing it was the northern night sky instead of an endless shape of coffered tiles. She refused to sleep, fearing that her dream would be tainted with some pieces of her past or something twisted or a crossover between both like what she had endured in Hoffman’s safehouse. But without coffee, it was a new kind of impossible to stay awake when the bed was _this_ soft.

She had ransacked his kitchen, trying to find coffee which Stefano happened to only have this weird Italian instant mix that tasted ten times _worse_ than Hoffman’s made. She’d also found some organic chips in the cupboard that tasted like kale in a sock and she began to question his lifestyle. Whether he was on her side or not, but if Stefano _seriously_ thought that kale made an excellent flavor for potato chips he was obviously her _true_ enemy.

 _Enemy. Comrade._ She wasn’t even sure what to label him and somehow it made her mind buzzing.

Kenna was so deep in thought that she thought she was dreaming when she heard the sound of the piano muffling in the air. The stillness of the room and the meditative calm from the music was like a match made in heaven. She rose from the bed, it sounded close by and then remembered the music room was only two doors away from her room.

So she put her boots on and unlocked the door, melodies were quick to spill through the room as she stepped outside and tread down the hall, almost tiptoeing. The incandescent lights from the windows were streaming directly to her, making her curious face and her sooty lashes aglow. She stopped by outside the music room, its doors were opened wide and Kenna hummed.

There was Stefano, his fingers moving gracefully across the keys on a vintage grand piano in the middle of the room. His head bent forward, resulting his hair to fall past his eyes and he looked so serene. Like half of his soul was in the music, that Kenna didn’t have the heart to disrupt his trance. She simply leaned against the door frame and watched.

“Clair De Lune,” Kenna uttered once he was finished. If he was startled by her presence, he didn’t show it.

Instead, he looked pleased. “Ah, you are indeed a woman after my own heart, aren’t you, my dear? I knew you’d recognize a masterpiece when you hear one.”

She rolled her eyes and ignored his remark. _Sir-flirts-a-lot strikes again._

“I didn’t know you play.”

“Now you know,” Stefano returned. Kenna gave a cheeky grin.

“Your grandfather taught you how?”

“He did. He had played the piano ever since he was six, then pursued to play the cello and the harp at twelve. Hence…” Stefano gestured his head toward the said musical instruments around the room.

Kenna gave a whistle. She approached the harp and plucked the strings, producing an absurd sound that bounced across the acoustic walls.

“He was quite a renaissance man, then, wasn’t he? A painter, a musician, a historian,” Kenna waved her hand to a large bookcase in the corner. It seemed there was one in every room. Kenna herself had founded several books about _The Mahābhārata_ in her room. “What else?”

“A mathematician.”

“So, it’s in the genes, then? You know, being musically inclined and some kind of a genius.”

He snorted. “Obviously.”

Kenna stuck her tongue out funny at his smugness when he wasn’t looking.

 “Do you play?” inquired Stefano as he began to play a different tune.

“Nope, we had a neighbor that happened to be a piano teacher, but I just wasn’t interested in learning,” Kenna, still poking her head around the room, grabbed a violin from its stand. “My sister sort of plays the violin, though.”

“Sort of?” he looked at her, amused.

“Which means she can play Bach like a virtuoso for like a while good minute, then the sound of a plane crashing next.”

Stefano chuckled throatily at that. “Perhaps you sing, then?”

She snickered. “God, no. But give me the proper tools, and I’ll make your car  _sing._ ”

“What about your parents?”

In an instant, Kenna’s whole face morphed resembling a thunder. She put the violin back on its stand and looked away. “No.”

Her words held a certain tone that said _‘don’t push it’_ and Stefano must have noticed that because he immediately dropped the subject. Neither of them said a word for a brief moment. He stopped playing.

“ _Mia madre_ did,” Stefano suddenly spoke, his voice was so different had Kenna been wearing a blindfold, she might have never thought it was him. “She was an opera singer, a very renowned one all over Italy, and my father happened to be a _répétiteur_ when they met on the set for Tristan and Isolde.”

She stood stock-still in her place. Positively confused what to do with the information. This hadn’t been in his dossier, but again the content was nothing but pure fiction.

“Wow, I don’t think I’ve ever known someone who’s a _répétiteur_ . Let alone an opera singer _,_ ” she commented. But perhaps due to the fact that her family was utterly, _achingly_ boring, somehow this intrigued her. “I supposed they hit it off right away, then? Your parents?”

“Ironically, no. My grandmother told me that _mamma_ used to despise him, saying that he was a bit too perfectionist and aloof. She nearly walked away from the play because of him.”

“And she didn’t?”

He gave a melancholy smile but didn’t meet her gaze. “She didn’t. Somehow something in the air changed them and they managed to make peace. Two years later they proclaimed their love in the eyes of God,” Stefano took a deep breath as if trying to shake the thoughts away.

He resumed playing the piano as if their previous conversation didn’t exist. Kenna, on the other hand, was plagued with the information that her head couldn’t even form a word.

Why was he telling her this? Frankly, she didn’t expect him to open up to her especially with a matter that was so personal. Not that she didn’t appreciate his candour— in fact, she was quite honored but it made her wonder if he went around telling strangers about his past or if this was purely for her ears only.

Once again, Stefano Valentini turned out to be nothing but an enigma.

“Do the Kidmans play chess?” he rose and made his ways towards her. Kenna regarded at the antique chess table right next to her and smirked.

“This Kidman does,” she said, moving a white pawn.

“Intriguing,” Stefano remarked and pushed the black pawn in return. “We should play sometimes.”

“I’d totally kick your smug ass.”

“Nonsense. I won the tournament when I was sixteen.”

“I…” Kenna felt a sudden surge of self-conscious at that. “Won against a priest when I was fourteen?”

“Overconfidence always sinks the ship, Kenna, dear,” Stefano mocked with a sing-song voice.

She put up her bitch face. “That’s cheap coming from you.”

Out of their consciousness, the two of them merely continued playing, properly seated. Stefano sometimes let out a triumphant chuckle every time he took down Kenna’s pawns. She put her knight forward and waited for his turn.

“I was being a dick earlier.”

“You were,” drawled Stefano with a hand on his chin, deep in concentration. Kenna thought the gesture only accentuated his ridiculous cheekbones.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You know, that was the part where you should say that I wasn’t? But I appreciate the honesty.”

“I was only concerning for your safety and I meant it.”

“In which, it’s not necessary,” replied Kenna as she played her turn, Stefano huffed irritatedly as she captured his rook. She thought they ought to stop playing anytime now.

“It is to me.”

Kenna folded her arms and bit her cheek. She simply didn’t have the energy to argue with him and his words were producing knots that she just wanted gone.

“Why did you build this house, then?” she asked her interlocutor instead, desperate to change the subject. “I thought personal memories are supposed to be locked away from prying eyes like Theodore?”

“John Milton once said that the mind is its own place, and in itself can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven. This house, you see, is the embodiment of my heaven. The only, truly place where I know peace.”

“But what if he finds this place first?” She knew they were barely at the early stage of their plan, but if all the Field Emitters were activated, Stefano’s estate might be as well exposed. Not that she was being pessimistic, but they only got one shot at this. One miss, and they all would be digging their own graves.

His thin lip twisted. “I suppose we’ll never know.”

Her dark brows quirked. “Won’t we?”

“No, because we _will_ find him first.”

She cast him a quick glance. His credence was slightly affecting her that Kenna stopped thinking. She thought she could settle for that at the moment.

She could do this. They could do this.

They’ve reached the final phase of the game. Kenna looked at their progress and saw Stefano frowned, partially in disbelief and annoyance. He cursed something in Italian as Kenna only grinned from ear-to-ear. She had him in checkmate.

“ _Ha!_ Never underestimate a Kidman, Valentini. I hope you’ve learned your lesson.”

He kicked back his chair and rose to his feet.

“This is unacceptable. I demand a rematch,” he announced. It seemed he didn’t take his defeat well, which only made her grin grew wider.

She raised her chin at him and followed on her feet. “Aw, chin up, Stef. What is that you said? Overconfidence always sinks the ship?”

“That was Wilde, and ‘Stef’?” Stefano looked positively repulsed.

“Yeah. Stef. You know short for Stefano?” she groaned when he didn’t to get it. “Stef, Stefano. Ken, Kenna. Get it?”

He made a facepalm. “ _Madonna._ Why did I even bring you here in the first place?”

“Because you need me.”

At this, he let go of his hand. His gaze steady “I do.”

He looked at her then— like really looked at her and she sucked a breath. She had known that Stefano was… quite a sight to look at, she had to give him that but at this exact moment, Kenna was dazed. His gaze was like a magnetic force that pulled her in and Kenna happened to land on the wrong end of the polar. This staring contest made her head hazy.

“You know,” he began as he slowly crossed the space between them, his eye never leaving hers. “I used to think that perhaps if he really is invincible. A grandmaster or some sort. I’ve made my moves, sacrificed my knights, and still, he prevails. But now, it almost feels like I should pity him.”

Kenna knew well that he was talking about Theodore. “Why?”

Stefano tread closer, his familiar scent once again invading her nostrils and Kenna stilled. Her head had ignited a war with herself.

“Because he hasn’t met you yet. Theodore may have all the pawns, the knights, the bishops, but he lacks the most important piece on his side,” his gloved hand reached out to the chessboard, his stare found her lips.

“He lacks the Queen. The most powerful piece on the board. The King is limited in gait, but the Queen… she can go anywhere, she is an unstoppable force. And once she manages to defeat the rest of his pieces…” Stefano then knocked over his King using her piece, his baritone voice was down to a low murmur. “ _Checkmate.”_

Kenna gulped, her breath hot. She was hyper aware of their proximity and she felt a stir in her stomach, a stop-start anxiety. She forgot how to speak, how to breathe, how to _think_. Ensnared in his orbit, she was helpless.

This was the closest they had ever been during their time together. So close that his nose was inches away from meeting hers, that Kenna could see his pupil dilated. He was arresting her with his eye and her whole existence was screaming.

The sensible side of her wanted to drag her feet away and get out, and maybe annul this strange arrangement between them just to get a laugh out of it. But the terrible part of her knew better. Kenna wanted nothing more but to bask in this newfound thrill, to let loose and close their distance until her sanity reached the apogee for an apocalyptic result.

She knew what he was now. Stefano was like the Belladonna, with his purple suit and all, extremely attractive and she reckoned he would taste just as sweet and addictive and oh-so-deadly. To get a taste of him was to submit to the high-octane toxic. And she was curious, if not, interested. After all, who was Kenna Kidman if not constantly drawn to a certain kind of poison?

But whatever moment that had about to transpire between them passed by her eyes when Stefano’s face tensing. Something shifted in the way he was looking at her. His eye was still on hers, but it rather felt like he was staring right through her. She tilted her head.

“Stefano?” Kenna asked, her voice still husky and sounded foreign in her ears.

“They’re gone,” responded Stefano quietly. He slowly came back to himself and was massaging his forehead.  “The Disciples have just left.”

Kenna nodded, though her mind hadn’t fully intact, and backed away. “Oh, right. I’ll just, uh,” she cleared her throat. “I’ll grab my things and get ready. Meet you at the foyer in five?”

“Yes, yes,” he, too, hadn’t seemed to come down from his high. At least she wasn’t the only one. “I will meet you there.”

The walk back to her room was awkward and obscure. Her mind strangely felt even more awake than ever and Kenna had just missed her fifth batch of coffee for today. Once she arrived in her room, she closed the door and pressed her back hard against it and sighed.

What in the fucking hell was that?

If Kenna hadn’t known better, she thought she was on the verge of making the biggest mistake of her life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *singskissthegirlinthedistance*
> 
> First of all, Hey Now! You’re A Jeff! has kindly drawn some UH-MAZING, OUTTA THIS WORLD fan arts for this story, I cried :'))))) She is one hell of a talented artist and I’m deeply honored for the fact that an artist with her level took her time to draw something for me :’))))) thank you, Ana. You’ve just made my entire year.
> 
> Though, since she hasn't posted any of the images online, she gave me full permission to post them anywhere I like. I've posted the pics on photobucket under my pseud, but obviously, all credits go to her. She's amazing. The links for the images are on my profile.
> 
> As always, reviews are very much appreciated! Thank you for reading :D


	10. Into The Mouth Of The Wolf - I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, first of all, I need to apologize in advance for two things: First, I'm sorry that the update is kind of slow this time around and two, since I've never written a battle scene before, I'm sorry if the scene here is kinda... off. Corrections are very much welcomed! OH, I'd recommend you to listen to Led Zeppelin's Immigrant Song for the battle scene. It fits, and it's basically the song that accompanies me whilst writing the scene ^^
> 
> I would like to thank you to the ever amazing, phenomenal, genius Hey Now! You're A Jeff! for beta-ing this chapter and also, she has drawn not one, but TWO more arts of Kenna and Stefano and they are fricking AMAZING. I've attached the links on my profile under the NEW brackets, SO CHECK IT OUT. A, you're a part of the Heaven's On Fire family now, lmao, thank you so much for everything! And second, of course I would like to thank my main bae, Mrscrankypants for her support and unconditional love. Love you, gal pal :*
> 
> Lastly, I would like to thank YOU for reading this little story of mine. Thank you for the reviews, follows and favs, I appreciate them all :'))))

Kenna and Stefano appeared outside the City Hall gate, the wind was rustling and swaying the hem of Kenna's jacket as they quickly scuttled towards up an old gazebo without raising any unwanted attention. Under the moonless night, she used the opportunity to hide her form from the beasts that reigned across the gate and ducked behind the railings.

From her vantage point, she saw the courtyard was sprawling with the Lost just as Stefano had mentioned earlier. Like him, Kenna's eyes constantly scanning the area, taking the stock of the situation and every bit of their figures and movements to which she could safely deduce that they seemed to have a set pattern unless something caught their attention. And if experience had taught her anything from having had to deal with those creatures, was that distance was her only key to survival.

That and a stroke of luck.

All of this— at least for her— gave her something to distract on from all the uproar her mind had sparked. And before her thoughts betrayed and reverted her back to  _him_ , Kenna decided to focus on the task at hand.

"Thirty?" asked Kenna, keeping her voice carefully as neutral as possible.

"Thirty-five," Stefano supplied, dropping to one knee on the opposite side without meeting her face. "That is a small number that my creatures can easily defeat. We should march towards them as planned."

This time, however, his confidence slightly unnerved her and she could feel she was thinking too much. What if they attracted many more of them? Kenna hadn't thought about this before. She was short on ammo, and she doubted Stefano's dagger could come in handy when all hell broke loose.

"I suppose your dagger can't magically fly to stab each and every one of them if things went haywire?"

"Please, do I look like a walking cliché, Kenna?" Stefano scoffed whilst Kenna mouthed  _Yep_  when he wasn't looking. "There won't be any flying daggers or whatsoever, you'll see."

"Okay, whatever, but you know we can't all just barge in like the Legionnaires. We're too outnumbered."

He seemed to mull her words over. "What do you have in mind, then?"

Kenna looked over her shoulder to find the looming, wickedly-grinning Guardian who was absent-mindedly cutting a row of shrubberies with her buzzsaw arm.

"Let Guardian charge in first. That should draw all their attention to her. You and I each can skirt around the building and flank them from each side. I'll go left, you right while Obscura follow from the gate. On my signal, we all strike at the same time. We'll have the element of surprise that way," Kenna proposed, noticing the approving look on Stefano's face as he nodded.

"A clever plan, my dear, and my Guardian is the perfect bait for the occasion. She'll thwart them off easily." At the mention of its name from its master's lips, the monster let out a loud, evil-sounding guffaw that made Kenna cringe. She saw a winning smirk playing over Stefano's lips from her peripheral vision.

"Theodore won't know what hit him," Stefano added smugly, coldly. Even in the darkness, Kenna could make out the rancor in his eye burning wild and bright like the flaming sea. She thought the sight should have feared her, but it didn't.

Instead, the smallest smile flickered over her lips. "Checkmate, remember?"

"Checkmate, indeed."

Kenna soon regretted uttering the words aloud as soon as she noticed him grinning from ear-to-ear and she straightaway knew that his mind also darted to their previous encounter.

She swallowed, her mind a tangible mess, then risked herself to turn to him. Her warm hazel ones meeting his striking blue eye and there was a lingering force that passed between them.

Things have been weird for her after…  _that,_ and Kenna didn't want to go there. The air had clearly changed between them though it was beyond foolish to have let herself be swayed by his charm based on the heat of the moment like that. Kenna knew better. She had so many things on her plate and Stefano had started to become its own set of problems, which was the last thing she needed right now. She came to Union for one thing and one thing only, and he would  _definitely_  complicate the matter.

But when he was looking at her like  _that,_  Kenna could feel the hinges were starting to tremble.

Of all the time she had to be sidetracked, why did it had to be now?

"This is going to get hairy," Kenna, still transfixed by his gaze, muttered.

"I know," replied Stefano. Even he looked anxious. "Are you ready?"

She puffed out more than necessary, her veins thumping in her ears. Though their plan was solid, and his monsters seemed to be more than capable of executing dozens of feral zombies in a close quarters combat, yet there were so many ways that this could go wrong.

Great, she was starting to think like Juli now.

"No, but fuck it. You?"

"Ready as I'll ever be," Stefano answered. Rifling through his suit pockets for his camera and dagger, his gaze morphed into something vicious that she knew wasn't set for her.

"Okay. Let's do this, then."

He rose to his feet, then, turned his attention to his guardian with a meaningful look on his face. Kenna heard Stefano saying something to it in Italian, and the next thing she knew, the creature was already on its way towards the gate, its gigantic feet clomped on the pathway and shook anything it passed.

Kenna began to count to ten.

" _In bocca al lupo,_ Kenna," Stefano said as she stood next to him.

"What's that?"

"It's an Italian saying for good luck among performers. It literally means 'into the mouth of the wolf'," he explained. "You may response it with  _crepi_. It means 'may the wolf die."

"Crepi."

"Crepi." The artist smiled ruefully and trod closer, taking her hands gently. Kenna felt her heart rate elevated. "Be careful,  _mia cara,_ " he said softly.

She didn't flinch nor look away. Kenna simply squeezed his gloved ones in return and drew back. She had reached ten. Their time was up. Although their fingers only brushed for the faintest moment, it struck her just how warm Stefano's fingers felt underneath the leathers.

"You too, Stef."

The words sounded terse, but she knew that he knew Kenna meant every word. And it was enough. In the meantime, this was as far as she could give him.

Kenna skittered out of the gazebo, still hadn't correctly got her head screwed on, though cheered at the prospect of their separation. This helped her see through the smokescreen for the first time in a while as she pushed the issue deep down into the recesses of her mind. Kenna had a more pressing problem tonight. She wouldn't let him held a stranglehold on her concentration.

When she looked back through the veils of her windblown hair, he and Obscura were nowhere in sight.

Now that the wheels were set in motion, Kenna couldn't help but finding just how ironic all of this was; charging towards the danger zone head-on with a shotgun drawn and the arterial burst of adrenaline in her veins. Just like old times. It almost felt like as if danger always found their way back to her. No matter how far she'd tried to detach herself from this kind of situation, it always bounced back like a ball in an empty room. The only addition to the scene was her unlikely companion. Her enemy-turn-comrade  _ish_ with his creatures in tow.

Call it fate, call it karma. Call it whatever you like. But sometimes, Kenna wondered if the universe was conspiring against her or there was indeed something wrong with her stars.

The sight of the City Hall clock tower soaring in the distance straightaway brought her back from her musings. She saw Guardian had almost reached the entrance when Kenna steered her course to the left, her hair glinting under the lamplight, and skidded through the garden of tall, untrimmed grasses and weeds. The walk proved to be challenging because with each step she took, the darker her surroundings gradually became and there were no visible paths or tracks that would show any way out of the garden.

It would have taken her forever to get out if it hadn't been for the fences, stretching on and on that Kenna simply followed the line to guide her out from the grass. She sped up once she was completely out and slewed around the corner. Guardian should have entered the courtyard by now, and Stefano and Obscura should be waiting by their pre-assigned positions, waiting for her signal.

Kenna heard the thunder split up through the air and she looked heavenward almost instantly. The rain would fall soon. She took it as a sign that she mustn't be late.

Without wasting more time, Kenna vaulted over a collapsed fence and crept forward, her shotgun raised and ready to shoot any enemies in sight. On her right were a row of crates where she swiftly took cover behind one.

She was panting, sweating profusely and inexplicably nervous as she leaned sideways to look out at the vast courtyard from behind the crate. Guardian had started rounding some of the Lost around it in the center, just as Kenna had anticipated, and decapitated the bodies of at least five of them who'd tried to claw their way up its massive form, it was straight up gruesome. Kenna instantly took comfort in knowing that that  _thing_  was fighting by her side.

Across the distance, amongst the trees, she saw blue energy fields ignited like a wildfire; glowing, incandescent just at the same time Kenna caught the sight of lightning flashed in the sky.

 _Here goes nothing,_  thought Kenna, reciting her final prayer to no one in particular and heaved a sigh. She cast one last glance at Stefano's position with a tightened grip on her weapon, her face set.

 _In bocca al lupo_. And Kenna lunged out from her cover and ran as fast as her feet could carry her towards battle.

The first gunshot rang in the open and found its way directly into an enemy's head. It ripped through his melted flesh, causing his head to explode before falling to his death on the ground with a loud thud, producing a nasty green-like phlegm that smelled like acid. She uncocked her pump-action shotgun, dodging here and there from their powerful talons and tried keeping her distance, her adrenaline ratcheted up a notch.

When Kenna felt one of them managed to whiz by her cheek, she hissed sharply and fire the remaining cartridges on more enemies in rapid succession. Training and adrenaline had been in her favor and for the first time in her life, she had to thank Mobius for this.

She drew back, scrambling behind the fountain to reload and watched as her companions delivered the same barbaric, efficient job at their enemies. Obscura was a tad slow, but deadly nonetheless. Its three legs scampered forward horrifyingly, its camera flash stunned any nearby Lost within her range before letting out its sharp appendages from its behind and stabbed them repeatedly to death. Kenna heard Guardian's high-pitched laughter echoed at this, it looked as if the monster was praising its sibling or something.

Stefano, on the other hand, was as fast as lightning. Waving his way through the horde with his power in an almost blink-of-an-eye speed, leaving trails of his power behind him as he slashed open each body he passed with flawless precision.

It just occurred to Kenna that she had never seen Stefano in a full-fledged fight until now. The dagger and camera in his hands were like chalk and cheese, something that Kenna couldn't really find the correlation though her doubt was quickly debunked as soon as she saw him in action. He was indeed brutal while maintaining his own theatrical penchant that was so  _him_ that Kenna couldn't quite find the word for it.

But then she remembered that Stefano was a serial-killer and whatever admiration she had for him simply vapored.

A sudden quake stirred the ground beneath her. Kenna nearly toppled over, bracing herself against the fountain to find shelter. Confusion arose over her face.

She peered around to find Guardian was stomping off its feet on the concrete ground, creating a seismic wave that knocked the Lost from their feet. She nearly gasped as soon as her eyes found Stefano in the crowd, he was also thrown off-balance all the while two creatures were charging at him from behind.

"Stefano, move!" she bellowed, but he was too far to hear her and Kenna decided harm would seriously befall him if she didn't do anything.

She couldn't tell where the strength came from but somehow she managed to sprint and make it to him just in time, firing four rounds at the monsters' heads with gritted teeth.

"You okay right there?" Kenna cried, seizing his wrist to help him up.

Stefano looked peevish, but delighted at the same time upon seeing her.

"Ah, my knight in shining armor," he teased, running his hand through his hair to smooth out any strand. "I'm fine,  _bene._  I would need to have a serious vis-a-vis with Guardian about this, however."

"I bet Mobius would freak out when they see this. Thinking there's an earthquake or whatever in here."

"Hmm... on a second thought, maybe I wouldn't need to have a talk with Guardian after all."

She laughed loudly, baring her teeth and he did too. The world was a chaos around them, Kenna could hear inhuman shouts mingled with the sound of Guardian's cackle, thunders kept on howling up there in the sky, but at this moment, it was if the time had stopped except the two of them.

Suddenly, Kenna watched as Stefano's smile dropped.

"Reinforcements," he murmured grimly, looking at the gate with his distinctive murderous look. She followed his gaze and there they were, more enemy forces, at least dozens more of them, running toward the group from the far side.

Kenna gave an all-or-nothing stance and bit out a curse. She couldn't shoot them from this far distance, shotguns weren't made for a long-range shot and her ammo was at critical.  _Shit._  Her worst fear had just come to light.

All the while Kenna's mind was buzzing, Stefano merely raised his camera to his face.

"Kenna."

She cast a quick questioning glance at his way, the horde was moving ever closer. "Stefano?"

"Close your eyes," he commanded.

"Why?"

"Just trust me," he snapped his head to her from behind his camera, his look stern.

Kenna did so without being told twice. And then there was the familiar sound of his camera flash charging and she understood what he meant.

Even from behind her eyelids, she somehow could make out as a bright light glowed and Kenna wondered whatever was going on out there. When she felt the light dimmed down, Kenna slowly lifted her eyes open. What she saw instantly sent her mouth hanging open.

It was like something out of a science fiction movies she had seen when she was a kid. The flash somehow slowed the creatures' movement into a super slow-motion that Stefano had the time to approach one of them in two long strides and impale his dagger into a woman's abdomen and sliced his way up to her chest. The atrocious sight of the execution had Kenna stood frozen in her place.

As he moved on to his next victim and so on, Kenna raised her weapon and shot the remaining enemies with gusto.

And then there was silence. The battle was over, ghoulish corpses were strewn all over the courtyard, most piled near Guardian's feet and there was no more for them to kill anymore.

But Kenna knew that the night had only just begun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part II is coming up next! What would Kenna and Stefano encounter in the City Hall? You'll have to see. The chapter's halfway finished btw and I promise to update it ASAP.
> 
> And here's a little snippet of what's coming up next:
> 
>  
> 
> _It was five minutes later when the group was bustling their way towards the stairwell. The corridor was even darker than the other rooms they'd been, save for little candles that barely illuminated their path that Kenna had to stop short and squinted her eyes. She delved through her pockets, snapped her shabby lighter on and took lead. Kenna made a mental note to bring a flashlight for the next round. Stefano trailed her up the stairs with a hand on the railings._
> 
>  
> 
> _Kenna nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard a strange rumble coming directly from above them, loud and almost inhuman. They all paused in their place. Kenna held her breath, her eyes enlarged as she turned around to Stefano who was listening intently, his brow furrowed._
> 
>  
> 
> _He looked up at the ceiling, trying to determine whatever the heck it was when it abruptly ceased._
> 
>  
> 
> _"We're not alone," Stefano noted after a beat of silence, echoing Kenna's own alarming thoughts. He then signaled his Guardian and Obscura to take lead._
> 
>  
> 
> _"Holy shit." Kenna felt like breathing again, seemingly appalled. "What the fuck was that?"_
> 
>  
> 
> _"I don't know. But whatever it was, it sounded enormous," he answered bitterly. "And whatever it was, we'll destroy it. We have my Guardian and Obscura with me, they won't stand a chance."_
> 
>  
> 
> _Kenna wanted to believe him, but something told her it wouldn't be that easy. This could be her hunch talking— or paranoia— but whatever it was, it made her feel nervous. They needed to reach the Emitter fast. ___


	11. Into The Mouth Of The Wolf - II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is part II, fellas (」°ロ°)」  
> Happy reading!
> 
> Magnifico: magnificent  
> Forse: perhaps  
> Va Bene: alright  
> Facciamolo: let's do it  
> Capisco: i see  
> Correre: run

Kenna looked at her surroundings, her adrenaline was still at an all-time high and she felt like her lungs had just functioned again. Apparently, Stefano had saved them. They have survived this round although Kenna knew the attacks wouldn't stop here. Knowing Theodore, she knew that he would do anything to stop them from reaching the machine.

"Right. I totally forgot about the camera," Kenna began easily, her eyes flicked over to her shotgun before coming back to settle on his face.

Stefano produced a handkerchief from his pocket and made his way through the corpses with a wicked gleam in his eye, looking for heaven knows what. His dagger still in hand.

"I told you," he smirked, but didn't meet her eyes. His gaze was focusing on something else on the ground. "My powers aren't a cliche, Kenna, dear. I hope you've realized that by now," he responded proudly.

"I prefer the flying dagger," Kenna should probably dial back the sarcasm, but she couldn't help it. His self-aggrandizement was plain ridiculous. Her remark earned her a scathing look from the artist and she laughed, like really laughed that she could feel his gaze intensified. "Oh my god, relax, it was just a joke."

Eventually, Stefano dropped the subject, went back doing whatever the hell he was intending on doing and knelt down over a female Lost. Fascination danced in his eye as he inspected the woman's arms.

"Her arms… ah, she had such lovely arms," he started, still hadn't taken his view from them. "It would be a shame to let such limbs wither away with its owner."

Kenna hadn't even had the time to think of an answer when the next thing she knew, Stefano raised his dagger and made a messy chop off of the corpse's arm. He made the second cut on the other arm with the same manner.

Kenna's jaw dropped.

"What the fuc—  _why_  did you do that?!" her visage went from comically blank to furious in a jiffy. Kenna could feel her stomach churned at this. Killing them was a different thing, but mutilation… this was just an atrocity exhibition to a whole new level.

Stefano rose to his feet casually, his crimson gloves smeared with the green substance as he handed the two mangled limbs to Obscura as if he was handing a kitchen utensil or something. He then proceeded to wipe the blade clean with his handkerchief.

" _Perdono?_ "

"Why did you have to cut off her fucking arms?!"

"Why not? Her arms could be useful for my future projects," he said defensively, his tone helplessly bereft of any moral compass. "I had this sudden shot of inspiration of conjoining several arms together like a vase holding a bouquet of red roses on a chair. Set against a backdrop of rich velvet red curtains and an overhead lighting…" Stefano looked as if in the throes of his creative madness; hands spread, eye shone with enthusiasm. " _Magnifico,_ don't you think?"

Kenna appeared to bristle at his answer, but she could only sigh. She didn't have the energy to try and argue with him right now. It was hopeless trying to talk with a madman anyway.

"Christ's sake, Stefano, you do really know how to give women the creeps, don't you?"

" _Forse,_  perhaps," he shrugged. "But you are not like most women."

"That doesn't mean I approve  _this,_ " she spat out, but with no real bite.

Stefano looked at her, his head cocked slightly, his brow furrowed, visibly confused by her sudden outburst. Kenna tore her gaze from him. Surely, he had to know just what exactly upset her, and if he didn't, she wasn't going to enlighten him. It wasn't like she could magically alter him into the beacon of goddamn humanity in a short span of time anyway.

Just like aforementioned, it was hopeless trying to talk with a madman.

"You know what, let's just—" she slapped a hand on her forehead. The image of the mutilation was now forever trapped inside her head and she gave an involuntary shudder. "Let's just go. The clock's ticking."

Kenna whirled around, not bothering to wait for him or his monsters, and scurried her way up the stairs towards the main entrance. Stefano fell into a step behind her in an unfathomable silence. He hadn't uttered a single word and she supposed it was better that way. Once again, he continued being a thorn in her side as if it was his second nature.

She took one last regard at the courtyard, making sure their enemies stayed dead and none more coming to surprise them. Kenna could tell Stefano kept stealing glances at her, but she refused to look at him.

Even when she said, "On the count of three, I'll get the doors open."

" _Va bene._ We will cover you, my dear."

He braced himself against the wall and dropped into a fighting stance. Guardian took the opposite side with its deadly arm raised.

"Be careful," Stefano whispered kindly.

"I will." But there was a thick uncertainness in her words. They could be as well walking into a trap, but they couldn't turn back now. Not when they were this close to their goal.

The heavy oak doors creaked loudly as Kenna pushed them open. She cautiously peered her head inside, expecting company except she found none. Kenna signaled to Stefano and they all stepped inside, all on alert, after he had to mutter something to Guardian to stop it from cackling.

Kenna had her shotgun raised once more, feet making muffled sounds on the linoleum floor as she looked around watchfully, her shoulders hunched. If an enemy would spring out from the corner, she would be ready. And judging from the way Stefano's dagger glimmered under the dim lights, Kenna knew he would show no mercy as well.

Everything in the foyer was left untouched just the way she had first come here; from the drying blood trail to the shoe-prints— except that there was no Tchaikovsky on the loudspeakers this time. Shadows still loomed overhead, making the dimness seemed more ominous. Lightning flashed from outside, briefly illuminating the room and their watchful faces as the rain began to pour heavily.

They slipped through the brown doors behind the desk that led them straight into a larger hall. Though there was no gruesome  _Alice In Wonderland_  spectacle hanging in mid-air to greet her now, it was still hard for Kenna to come back. The last time she went here, the ground had swallowed her whole and brought her straight to this devil of a man.

What this place would her offer this time, she wondered gloomily. She wholeheartedly wished she didn't have to find out.

It was five minutes later when the group was bustling their way towards the stairwell. The corridor was even darker than the other rooms they'd been, save for little candles that barely lighted their path that Kenna had to stop short and squinted her eyes. She delved through her pockets, snapped her shabby lighter on and took lead. Kenna made a mental note to bring a flashlight for the next round. Stefano trailed her up the stairs with a hand on the railings.

Kenna nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard a strange rumble coming directly from above them, loud and almost inhuman. They all paused in their place. Kenna held her breath, her eyes enlarged as she turned around to Stefano who was listening intently, his brow furrowed.

He looked up at the ceiling, trying to determine whatever the heck it was when it abruptly ceased.

"We're not alone," Stefano noted after a beat of silence, echoing Kenna's own alarming thoughts. He then signaled his Guardian and Obscura to take lead.

"Holy shit." Kenna felt like breathing again, seemingly appalled. "What the  _fuck_  was that?"

"I don't know. But whatever it was, it sounded enormous," he answered bitterly. "And whatever it was, we'll destroy it. We have my Guardian and Obscura with me, they won't stand a chance."

Kenna wanted to believe him, but something told her it wouldn't be that easy. This could be her hunch talking— or paranoia— but whatever it was, it made her feel nervous.

She only knew that they needed to reach the Emitter  _fast._

"I thought this place is some kind of your territory or whatever?" Kenna asked again as they resumed their climb.

Stefano's face scrunched. This must be a sour subject for him.

"It used to, but I think your arrival in Union piqued Theodore's interest. He had his people surrounded this place just after our first encounter." Kenna noticeably flinched at the memory, but kept still. "I had to leave before he had a chance to come and get me," he continued.

"Shit. I hope you aren't pinning that on me for all that," she mumbled hopefully. The last thing Kenna needed was for being the reason Stefano had lost his domain to Theodore.

" _Che?_ Kenna, darling, don't be preposterous," Stefano looked at her, sizing up whether she was serious. "You are the least to blame in all this. It's him. It's always been him."

Kenna craned her head to the side, taking in his sharp profile and she couldn't help but wonder just exactly what Theodore had done to him. Somehow, she found herself almost feeling sympathetic for the devil.

Almost.

They reached the top, and Kenna couldn't be more relieved to see the dim lamplight that filtered through the enormous curtains greet her. Stefano held open the curtain for her as they slipped inside to another large room, Guardian and Obscura were waiting for the two humans by the doors— which had already left opened by either one of them to indicate the room was clear of any sign of hostile. Finally, they sped through the final hall and turned right.

Beyond the final doors, stood the Stable Field Emitter, surrounded by a myriad of hanging safelight bulbs that illuminate the whole room in deep crimson. The room felt colder and smelled different, like a mixture of strange chemical and death, which was quite unsettling.

If Kenna didn't know any better, she'd thought this room had used to serve as one of Stefano's darkrooms.

Kenna approached the Emitter, once again reminding herself that Stefano was on her side now and felt her wariness slowly subsided. Her attention shifted as soon as she heard the Emitter's mechanical voice came to life.

_"Authorization required. Please connect an authorized terminal."_

She fished out her communicator from her side, placed the device on the docking station to confirm her authorization as the both devices linked. Finally, Kenna grabbed the note for the activation codes and let out a deep sigh.

This was it, the whole point of no return. Their first move on the chessboard began here. Kenna paused and looked at Stefano, a silent permission, as he moved beside her, his creatures behind him. They exchanged glances, mirroring each other's expressions, scared, nervous, skepticism all melted together into a single pot.

Kenna was also worried for her own safety, for Juli's, for the Castellanos', for her fellow friends at Mobius.

And maybe even slightly for Stefano's.

She knew well the effect of exposing himself to the Emitter; his powers would be disabled momentarily until he wasn't within the machine's radius. He would be human, normal, in other words; like a king devoid of his majestic crown. Kenna would still occasionally hate him for numerous of reasons, but that didn't mean she'd take pleasure seeing him high and dry.

But then he uttered, "We've come here not to make second thoughts,  _mia cara._ "

And any trace of hesitation slowly faded from his features. Adorned with the harsh red light, he truly looked like someone who was facing a firing squad and refused to be blindfolded.

"Yeah, I'm afraid so."

 _All bets are off,_  Kenna thought resolutely. Her fingers made contact with the keypads, gathering courage. She needed to do this— she  _had_  to do this. If you're going through hell, the only way out is to keep walking.

Stefano backed away, his form was starting to be limned with the strange energy waves. The room witnessed as red and blue coalesced and danced on the walls like a neon show.

"Into the mouth of the wolf, Kenna."

For some strange and unknown reason, those words comforted her. "And may the wolf die."

And Kenna punched the codes in.

_"Restart sequence initiated."_

The machine emitted a steady whir and raised its radar antenna from the body. A bright flash brightened her face as she saw the antenna extended its arms and spun, generating some kind of electricity.

Kenna glanced back at the countdown on the terminal screen. They approximately had ninety seconds before the machine went online. It was time to go.

She spun around to him. "Alright, let's get the hell out of her—"

Suddenly, there was a pounding on the doors, violent and unforgiving that echoed throughout the chamber and they both froze. Kenna's mind screamed out a warning. The realization of any possible danger came only a millisecond before the doors were brutally knocked open with one final force, sending splinter of woods and hinges at her she had to throw her arm over her eyes to make sure it didn't reach her face. And by the time Kenna grasped at what was happening, it was already too late.

Stepping into the room with heavy thuds was the Harbinger, like the phantom coming to haunt you in the dead of the night, wielding its flamethrower and taking an aim straight at them. Its breath sounded unusual under its bandage-wrapped rebreather mask that was attached to the gas canister on his back.

Kenna, feet still deep-rooted in her place, simply gaped. Her hands fumbling with her shotgun, her nerves were on fire. This was bad indeed. From her side, she noticed as Stefano pulled his dagger from his back in one smooth motion.

"Harbinger," he seethed and stepped forward, his eye flashed dangerously. She thought if looks could indeed kill, Harbinger would die a slow, painful death. Guardian and Obscura both moved in-line with him, ready to pounce on the given order.

Honestly, she had no fucking idea how to defeat the hell out of Harbinger. The thing was twice her size! But Stefano and his monsters seemed to know what to do. And if their number was any indication, Harbinger should be the one who feared for his own odds, not vice versa.

"You must be cleansed!" It howled. And then Kenna saw as the strange ornaments on Harbinger's gas canister lit up like flashbulbs and radiated a powerful wave blast across the room that Kenna nearly tripped.

That was when all hell broke loose.

All the lightbulbs in the room trembled and exploded one by one, like dozens of cameras snapping pictures in her face at an insane rate. Darkness swept in once more like an old friend.

At the same time, she witnessed as Stefano instantly crumpled to one knee, his dagger slipped from his gloved hand. One hand clutching his bad eye, he let out a pained groan while his other hand balled into a fist so tight on the floor that he was uncontrollably shaking.

"Stefano!" Kenna quickly rushed to his side and placed a hand on his shoulder, looking panic-stricken. "Stef, talk to me!"

He slowly raised his head, staring straight at her through his rheumy eye. In the dimness, she couldn't discern his expression, though the shadow of his visage suggested anything but acute pain. The flare in his mechanical eye starting to dim.

"My powers," he rasped through clenched teeth. Her mouth dropped open.

"H-how?"

Frowning, she looked around, only to find Obscura and Guardian's forms glitching, their movements slowing before they were completely phased out of the room. Kenna's stomach lurched. It had suddenly dawned on the mind of Kenna Kidman that her situation had just elevated from too-close-to-the-sun bad to as worse as exposing herself to its fiery halo.

And this time, she knew she was about to get burnt.

The countdown on the screen froze at seventy seconds. Kenna cursed miserably. This was a chaos. How in the world Harbinger could have done all of this, she didn't have the time to figure that out now, but it seemed it had something to do with the creature's gas canister. And the fact it only affected Stefano and his creatures and the Emitter troubled her deeply.

Kenna's eyes snapped wide in alarm when she felt something bright and scorching approaching her from on the back of her jacket. She didn't have to turn around to know what it was, for the reflection of the gush from the orange flame could be seen vividly in Stefano's eye.

Acting on instinct, Kenna reached to Stefano and used all her strength to roll the two of them to the side. She felt the furnace-like heat went passed by her hair just an inch and she hissed. Thankfully, she was fast enough to act just in time before the fire could engulf and burn them both to a crisp.

That was too damn close.

She braced herself against the floor, the cold tiles a counterpoint from the heat she was exposed earlier and quickly scrambled to her feet, grabbing Stefano's hand as she upped before wrapping her own arm around his back. Bearing his full weight, Kenna let Stefano leaned on to her like a lifeline and she steered them round the corner, her gait off-kilter.

"Stay with me, Stef," Kenna mumbled as she carefully braced him against the walls.

Harbinger's unusual breathing echoed in the background, though they were safe here just for a moment they couldn't linger for too long. She needed to form a plan before things went even further south.

"Are you okay?" The concern in her voice was unmistakable. Kenna stifled the urge to touch him again or make unnecessary advances or something.

Stefano nodded, still looking dazed and seemingly out of breath.

"I'm fine." He was not. His eye was slanted and frightened, his skin pale with a sheen of cold sweat. Stefano was the _opposite_  of fine.

Kenna blew out loudly. Despair to the point that she nearly tore her hair out.

She withdrew her shotgun and leaned out of the walls slightly. Her eyes found the Harbinger making its way towards the Emitter, the flamethrower was trained on the machine this time. The ornaments on its gas canister were still aglow and Kenna was certain now that whatever had rendered Stefano and the Emitter to this state came from it.

Kenna calculated their options and risks. They could try their luck and kill the thing. The outcome would be very dicey— it was a crazy risk but they came here to make sure the Emitter was up and running. No ifs, no buts.

Or they could escape. Clearly, Harbinger's main interest was in the Emitter and given that Stefano was in no shape to fight, engaging a war with the beast was suicidal. Yes, the Emitter would be destroyed and all of their effort to come here would be futile, but at least they would be safe.

"The creature is burning down the machine."

Stefano's voice instantly pulled Kenna down from her train of thoughts. He stood next to her, frowning, his eye narrowed and the pair watched helplessly as the Emitter was being set alight by the Harbinger. Kenna cursed foully.

"Shit. It's gotta be stopped!" She knew she had to come up with a decision soon but her mind felt blank. It almost felt like seeing a person drowned but being helpless to plunge into the water and save them.

"I know. We need to stop it."

The woman turned, darted her gaze up at him. Those were the last thing she had expected to come out of his mouth, it sent her brows knitted. Though the color of his skin starting to reappear, he still looked spent.

"Can you fight?" She felt bad for asking this, but she didn't have a choice.

"I'll manage."

But Kenna wasn't convinced. "Are you sure?"

"I am certain, Kenna.  _Facciamolo,_ " Stefano replied coherently, resolutely.

Kenna wanted to open her mouth to protest, but they hadn't much time to lose. She simply nodded in acquiesce.

She fished out her Colt pistol from her waist, remembering his dagger was still left lying about in the middle of the room and held it over for him. Kenna wasn't going to send him back into war without at least a sidearm. He took the gun from her hand and ejected the magazine to take a conscientious look at the bullets, counting.

"I only have one more mag to spare, though," Kenna informed as she handed the magazine to him, anxiety creeping into her voice. "I was going to use this for last resort, and obviously this is a case in point."

Stefano pocketed the magazine. " _Capisco._ And the shotgun?"

Kenna glanced down at the weapon and counted the remaining cartridges. She bit her lip to stop her from squirming.

"Six shells." And the two let out a loud, collective sigh of dejection. Anger compressing Stefano's lips into a thin line.

Six. Kenna only had six shots at this, she'd better not miss. She only hoped they could still save the Emitter before it was too late.

"Then we'd better make it count," he said, preparing himself.

Without tearing her gaze away from him, Kenna unloaded the shotgun and took her place by his side. She let Stefano's last words reverberated in her head. He was right, they would damn better make this count.

Kenna gave a signal to Stefano, a harsh line forming between her brows, her finger curled around the trigger. Without further ado, the pair stepped out from the corner and opened fire.

They laid a first couple lethal shots at Harbinger's head. The creature flinched in his place, causing for the flamethrower to lose from its grasp and the fire stopped immediately.

Harbinger let out a deafening roar and turned its attention to them. Kenna met its gaze, a challenge in her eyes. The thing was angry. Not very surprising. But before they could lay another shot at it, Harbinger suddenly lunged toward their position. The weight of its physique emphasized with each step it took and it just struck her just how large it was up close.

They both jumped out of the way just in time before the impact— Stefano to the left and Kenna to the right. Pain pierced her as she landed on her hip, scorching.

Kenna moaned and fixed her gaze on the floor instead, a hand rubbing over her side. She consumed the pain like a bitter pill, surprisingly, it helped muted the sting for a bit.

Out the corner of her eye, she felt Stefano staggered to his feet, one hand bracing on a nearby counter to steady himself. He still looked weak and Kenna was slightly worried if Harbinger would see that he had the lesser advantage.

Kenna lifted her head and opened her mouth to scream at Stefano to run. But whatever words she wanted to say died in her throat when she found Harbinger stood before her, her eyes settled on the end of its blade-like nozzle as a cold fear washed over her.

Kenna swallowed the lump in her throat and closed her eyes tight.

_Checkmate._

An echo of a gunshot snapped her eyes open. She looked up, a spray of blood oozing from Harbinger's mask before whipping her head to the side to see Stefano was firing another series of shots at the creature.

"Kenna, c _orrere!_ Run!" he shouted hoarsely. Kenna was somehow still too dumbfounded to move a muscle. "Run!"

The woman hauled herself up, eyes wide, hand making sure still holding to her shotgun and took off. She sprinted noisily down the aisle, skipping and skidding whilst Stefano went to the opposite side, the Harbinger hot on his tail. Gunfire and the sound of their shoes clomping were the music that encompassed the whole room.

It had struck her then, Stefano was playing the distraction. That realization brought an intense chaos in her mind remembering the state he was in, but at the same time, she knew she would have done the same thing if Kenna had been in his position. It simply irked her just how much she wished for Stefano to disappear from her head, but the thought of him dying patently bothered her.

The ball was in her hands now. If she wanted for them to win this game, she would better play it right.

Approaching the edge, Kenna's pace slowed down. The main entrance was on her right side. Her lungs burned, sweat trickled down her face and stung her eyes, her heart pounded harder than ever. She pressed her body to the high walls, took a quick glance around the corner and pressed forward where a large gap between the walls was facing the Emitter. Kenna noticed the Emitter was clearly in a bad shape, some parts of the body was melting but the screen was still flickering.

There was still hope.

Stefano was on the other side of the room already, panting and darting about while trying his best to fire blind shots at the Harbinger. The zealot was lethal, she noticed, spraying fire everywhere it went, swinging its sharp nozzle at him, trying to knock the artist down to his feet, but Stefano didn't miss a beat and was quick to dodge though struggling to maintain his agility.

In which, Kenna opined it wouldn't be for long judging how he'd become slower and slower.

A bullet entered the Harbinger's skin once again, and still, the thing had not yet to fall to its defeat. Their effort reached stagnant. Her headache tripled. Obviously, Harbinger must have worn an armor underneath, Kenna should have known. Bullets wouldn't be enough to take them down. Theodore wouldn't let his pets walked free terrorizing Union without a proper protection, no, he wasn't that reckless.

They needed to up the ante. Something that could do more damage than just headshots, something that could spread in an instant like…

_Fire._

The gas canister. Shit, Kenna should have thought. She could turn its greatest weapon against it. Now if only she could sneak up on its back and destroy it while Stefano was playing mouse...

She heard them approaching her position in full-speed and Kenna forced her mind to focus. She pivoted, jogged back the way she had come from and ducked in the corner. She knew what she was going to do now. Using the darkness to her advantage, Kenna let her body melded with the shadows like the wraith.

Kenna waited for them to pass her. When they did, she stood up, stepped out of her hiding place with teeth bared, nose flared, and directed her shotgun at the fuel tanks on its back and let her shotgun did its job.

Harbinger must have been aware of her position this whole time because it suddenly turned its heels to her, dodging effectively from the bullet that had nearly grazed its head. Kenna hadn't anticipated that. Her action also seemed to aggravate the creature even more as it raised its flamethrower at her once again, ready for the kill and fire.

"You will never escape me!" Harbinger roared, its distorted and humanoid voice gave a bloodcurdling effect.

She yelped, this time skilfully evading the burst without hurting herself and dropped her body flat on the ground. Smoke billowing out around her causing for her to cough.

"Stefano, the fuel tanks!" Kenna exclaimed roughly, making sure the Harbinger's interest was on her—  _only_  to her as she dragged herself rapidly across the floor, putting some safe distance between her and the walking bomb. "Shoot the fuel tanks!"

Stefano's gaze darted up to the gas canister, somehow understanding exactly what she had meant as if it was being written all over her face and took a step back. He was about to deliver the shot when the Harbinger growled, spun and gave its weapon a powerful swing at Stefano. Alas, the artist was too slow to evade the blow, hitting him square in the stomach.

The contact hurled Stefano backward across the room, as fast a catapult launching a pebble in the air. His back crashed against the Emitter in a loud, painful crunch. He grunted and lolled his head forward, unmoving. Kenna gasped in horror at the sight, fearing the worst.

"Stefano!"

Kenna was on her feet already, sprinting her way towards him amidst her panic haze. The world around her blurred, swallowed by the noiseless vacuum of slow motion and Stefano was her only focus point at this juncture.

She was well aware that she was within Harbinger's proximity. And in her haste and desperation, Kenna foolishly thought that she could simply outmaneuver it. Which turned out to be a fatal mistake as soon as she felt something solid and heavy hit her torso, violently sending her body flying like a ragdoll.

The back of her head banged against the concrete wall, and a surprised cry escaped her lips. Her ears rung from the concussion, pain beginning to flush into her system, as unpleasant as you imagine it would be, making her dizzy and her vision swayed. The room looked like it was tilted and for a second, she nearly blacked out.

Her shaky hand slowly made its way up to her head, gingerly feeling the physical trauma and hissed loudly. It was only fortunate that Kenna didn't bleed out.

She stared ahead, forcing herself to focus despite a throbbing headache, finding her shotgun was a foot away from her. Stefano sat far on her blurry eyesight, still retaining the same worrying position, his hair splayed over his face. Kenna tried to call his name, but the first syllable stalled on her tongue.

So, she kept her gaze on him, afraid that if she let go he would fade away when Harbinger stepped into the frame and completely blocking her view of Stefano. Kenna tried but failed to snarl.

The dark clothed figure stood the gap between Kenna and Stefano. And she knew, oh, she fucking knew that Theodore must be feeling all smug somewhere out there in his fortress right now. To catch two fish on one lure. That was quite the achievement. Kenna wasn't exactly the type that loathed defeat, but this riled her up.

But as for now, there was nothing that she could do. Staring into the mouth of hell that was Harbinger's weapon, Kenna appeared jittery and silent. Her shotgun was too far from her reach and given her condition, she couldn't swiftly move in time to get it without getting swallowed by the flames first.

Kenna heard it then— a swish waving through the air. Then she saw as the Harbinger abruptly jerked forward from its place with an animalistic growl, obviously a pained one. Her brows furrowed, positively puzzled by the lurch.

After Harbinger somehow managed to awkwardly secure its footing, it twisted around briskly, giving Kenna a full view of its back when she instantly saw it, something gleaming in the wan light that was buried deep in the back of Harbinger's skull.

It was Stefano's dagger.

_What the…?_

Across the room, there was Stefano, propping on one elbow while breathing heavily, his other arm was still outstretched in Harbinger's direction. His Kubrick stare was as deadly and sharp as his weapon, his anger rising. He truly was an avenging soul.

"Come to me, you worthless scum," said Stefano, abhorrence coloring his words.

It did as he'd asked. In a flash, Harbinger was once again charging toward Stefano, anger thundered its footsteps that even Kenna could practically felt it.

Stefano remained stock-still in his place, seemingly unfazed. His eye briefly met Kenna's in urgency and gave a curt nod and she immediately understood.

"Kenna, now!"

At that, she shuffled forward and grabbed her weapon in a desperate, staggering race to victory despite the pain that continued to gnaw at her head and fired the remaining rounds she had on its fuel tanks.

The gas canister exploded and fire was quick to claim Harbinger's skin, tendrils of smokes reaching up to the ceiling. The creature howled in agony and for Theodore's help. As if anything or anyone could help it escaped the blazing inferno and Kenna simply watched, at its face that was beginning to melt away.

Finally, the thing collapsed on the floor and succumbed to its demise.

Nobody said anything nor even moved from their places. Even when the Emitter came back to life, resuming its countdown. Kenna simply sat where she had fallen, panting and wheezing while Stefano splayed his legs and rested his head back to the machine, closing his eyes as if he could fall asleep right there.

Kenna gave one final look at the now-dead Harbinger, at its charred skin and it never came to her mind that  _it_  was actually a human male.

 _Another victim of Theodore's scheme,_  she thought before retrieving a small part of Harbinger's gas canister that sat near her leg and held on to it. She would inspect it later once she had the energy.

Right now, Kenna wanted nothing more but to go back to Stefano's place and hide from the rest of the world.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly first, I have to say this is a beast of a chapter to write. Writing fight scenes is definitely, definitely not my forte so once again, I apologize if everything seems off :/And as you may aware by now, yes, the device on Harby's fuel tanks (that's my nickname for them lmao) is my own personal head canon and everything will be explained in later chapters. Though critics and suggestions are more than welcomed! It would be nice to hear your thoughts about this^^
> 
> Next, I would like to thank the coolest human being on earth ever, Hey Now! You're A Jeff for beta-ing this chapter and once again, to continue amaze me with her never-ending talents LIKE DUDE ARE YOU EVEN HUMAN? I mean, first, not just that she has drawn another AMAZING piece for this story, but she also has 5 more ideas in plan for Kenno— yes, you read it right, FRICKKING FIVE. Oh, and she has an awesome taste in music. Seriously, you are amazing, Grann-pal. Love ya!
> 
> And of course, I would like to thank my baby bro who is celebrating his 17th bday today! Happy bday, bro! He's basically my brainstorming partner and has given me so many suggestions and ideas that ended up in the story and he's currently writing a piano piece for Kenna & Stefano that'll appear later in the story! Thank you, baby bro. You are awesome :')))
> 
> Next up, we'll get to see how's our favorite duo holding up in the aftermath of the battle, which is basically would contain lots of fluff. I promise to update asap.


	12. The Things We Try To Forget

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basically the calm after the storm and fluff goodness.

There was a long, tensed silence that lingered in the kitchen air of Stefano's estate, shrouding its two occupants who were seemingly lost in their own winding thoughts.

A lethargic sigh escaped Kenna's lips. Her head was still aching, though the ice had helped to assuage the throbbing. Bruises were probably starting to form all over her body now as she stared right through the white tiled walls, her back against the pristine marble counter.

A cigarette settled between her slim fingers, the smoke curling around her hand. She was too tired to think, too restless to sleep. Her mind was practically still buzzing from the fight before, it was as if she had lost her on and off switch somewhere across Union.

Her eyes decidedly diverted to Stefano who was sitting on the stool directly across her, a glass of aspirin in his hand fizzled like a snowglobe.

He was basically a wild mess— well, they both were—but his hair was in complete chaos, his scarf and jacket were placed neatly on the seat next to him where Kenna's jacket and gloves also resided, leaving him in his rumpled shirt that hugged his lean form like a second skin with both sleeves rolled up.

She took a long drag of her cigarette and looked the other way.

" _Stai bene?_ " Stefano began, breaking the silence.

Kenna blew the smoke out and glanced at Stefano's direction. "What?"

"Are you okay?" he kindly translated the words for her.

"Oh..." Kenna pondered, hadn't really expected the question. The battle had become one giant elephant in the room at the moment ever since they got back and she was somehow glad he brought the subject up to the table. For Kenna as well had been wondering just how he was holding up with growing frequency. She just simply didn't know how to start.

"Well, I'm not exactly hunky-dory, but I'm hanging. Well… besides the fact that I've been thinking just who was the fucking  _idiot_ who thought that installing a timer on a fail-safe device was a good idea, anyway?" Kenna groused.

An amused smirk crawled over Stefano's face and he chuckled, genuinely in mirth, despite sounding weary. "Apparently, those brainless philistines that call themselves Mobius."

Kenna laughed as well. "Touche." She paused then. "How about you? How's your eye?"

At the question, any trace of smile instantly disappeared from his face, replaced by an almost bitter look that acted as a  _do-not-disturb_ sign that he put up.

"It's fine," Stefano dismissed a little too quickly. Kenna didn't buy it. She knew a practiced lie when she heard one.

"Come on, Stef, I saw what that thing did to yo—"

"I'm _fine_ , Kenna," he said again. His tone showing no room for argument resulting for her to frown. There was a blink-and-you'll-miss-it moment when Kenna thought she saw guilt passed over him.

She looked at him now, finding his prevaricating manner annoying, though Kenna kept her opinions to herself. In another life, she would have probably rolled her eyes and stomped off of the room, leaving him to sort out his own problems, but right now, Kenna was just too tired to give a retort.

Kenna genuinely wanted to help him, medically or psychologically. True, she still hadn't forgotten what Stefano had done to that Lost, but she found that she couldn't be angry with him anymore.

Not when they bear the same scars now.

Overcame with a sudden boldness, Kenna set her cigarette on a nearby ashtray and crossed the space between them, like sleepwalking. She stood uncomfortably between his legs, looking down at him with eyes slanted. His familiar scent and buzz welcomed her, the kind that she reserved as  _him_ though still, his proximity still rose red flags in her mind.

"Let me see." It was more of a question than a demand.

His eye remained fixed elsewhere. She bent over to his level only resulting for Stefano to tilt his head even farther.

"Stefano, let me see your eye," Kenna tried again, softly this time. "Please?"

Her plead was finally paid off as Stefano slowly cocked his head up to meet hers. He looked miserable, annoyed and exhausted but managed to give her a measured stare, waiting. Kenna's mind was swirling, goosebumps threatened to rise on her skin. She was sorely tempted to turn around and let the matter rest, but she didn't. Kenna couldn't understand why but the thought of Stefano hurting bothered her.

So she let her hands— her cold and bare hands— reach down to him, reminding herself that this was simply for medical purpose and nothing else, and cradled his cheeks in her palms.

Stefano blinked, probably taken aback by the gesture, but remained still. His breathing steady. Under her touch, she felt his tension slowly unwind.

His skin was slightly colder than hers, his bleached blue eyes shone brightly against the backdrop of warm yellow light and Kenna fought so hard to avoid his gaze, to neglect the fact that she was  _touching_  him. It was a weird sensation. His five o'clock shadow lightly scraping her fingertips, her hand then traveled higher to stroke Stefano's dark hair out of the way, revealing the flaw it concealed.

A sense of relief flashed over her face. The light in his eye had indeed returned. Stefano was right, he was indeed fine and her relief easily vapored into embarrassment upon realizing that she was overreacting.

Though Kenna didn't say anything— she couldn't, she simply stood there as a sudden dryness had inched up her throat.

The last time she checked, Kenna was fully aware that the concussion hadn't been that serious and that her mind was still fully intact. In any rational sense, she should pull away from him now knowing that he was okay. Yet Kenna found herself lingered, absorbed by the faint flare of the device in his eye and the scars that surrounded it.

She was well aware that she was treading a dangerous zone here. Stefano was an uncharted water for her— no, he was the rough seas, the Belladonna, the miscreant, he was everything that humanity should steer clear of. But so help her, the thought of leaving somewhat hung far and dim in the distance. Something just drove her toward him, she had no fucking idea how. Kenna could be as well losing her fucking mind now and she hated the fact that she was losing it to him.

Her thumb delicately tracing the bulging veins as if he were a China doll ready to break and Stefano closed his eye, leaning into her gentle touch like cold hands to a fire. She felt his lips ghosting over her palm, parted and damp, blowing out warm breaths on her bare hand whilst his hands made their way to encircle around her waist, pulling her closer to him.

Stefano leaned his head forward and rested in on her sternum. Kenna made a sudden intake of breath. Her whole body went rigid, frozen to the spot. Her head swirled again. Her nostrils picked up the scent of his slightly smoky hair whilst his ear pressed against her heart. Though if Stefano could hear the continual tango that her heart made, he didn't make a comment.

Stefano inhaled deeply, breathing in her scent.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "It wasn't my intention to be curt to you."

It took all of her willpower not to gape. For a moment there, Kenna only looked down at the top of his head with an unrestrained disbelief. It simply never occurred to her that he was capable of uttering an apology to anyone at all, she was speechless, trying to formulate a proper response. She wasn't exactly sure how she felt about this.

When Kenna still remained silent, Stefano took that as a cue to continue.

"It's just… I didn't see it coming, Kenna. I didn't expect Theodore would go to that extent to try to take over Union," he sighed again, his pent-up frustration pulsed through him as his hold on her waist tightened.

Kenna took in a deep, measured breath. Hoping her emotion wouldn't betray her voice.

"None of us could have known, Stef. Like you said, Theodore is unlike anything either of us has faced before. Even if we had known, there wasn't much that we could do about it, was it? One way or another we had to go there and face that thing. You can't escape what is inevitable," reasoned Kenna, dropping her hands to his shoulders with the same comforting manner. "You can't escape fate."

He remained silent, probably mulling her words over. Stefano then withdrew his head from her and met her gaze. His eye anchored on her hazel ones.

"Was it fate that brought you to meet me, then?"

The question caught her off guard. "Perhaps," she shrugged, deciding not to muse on the idea too deep. "Or a long ass fall down the rabbit hole, take your pick."

Stefano's eyebrow arched high at her words. "Should I be pleased that the concussion didn't take away your sarcasm or vice versa?"

Kenna burst into laughter before playfully shoved him on the chest. "Can it you… you… what's the Italian word for asshole?"

" _Mi_   _amor_?"

"Oh, shut up, you ass."

Kenna was still too encompassed by her own laughter that she failed to notice when Stefano raised his hand up to her face. He gently caressed her sooty cheek with the back of his gloved hand, down her jaw. She jerked out of her bubble, as if she had tripped down a flight of stairs and swallowed thickly. The shadow of his smile still ever present, though the look that he gave her could have melted miles of Arctic ice.

He straightened his posture and he was close now, if he raised his head any higher they would be kissing.

Before the moment extended to the point she would regret later, Kenna withdrew her hands from him and wriggled free from his embrace. Stefano didn't bother to hide the disappointment in his visage and sighed.

She cleared her throat, almost sounding forced. "Right, I suppose I'd better update my sister about our recent development. We can talk later."

"Alright," Stefano nodded, taking a sip from his glass and stretched out his long legs. "You know where to find me."

Actually, she didn't. But knowing just how frequent they stumbled across each other's paths lately, Kenna doubted finding him would be much of a problem.

Kenna grabbed her communicator, refusing to meet his eye and made a bee-line toward the door. She was more than ready to be rid of this distraction, but at the same time heard her heart made a quiet protest.

This was just fucking conflicting.

Kenna felt her pace slowing down, the hallway was only a step away. She heard the stool shifted and scraped the floor and Kenna closed her eye shut.

"You should get some rest, Stef. Though your eye is fine now, it couldn't hurt, could it? Our fight is far from over and for the sake of our cause, please consider it." The woman paused, trying to let the statement sink in and cocked her head to the side, giving him a full view of her profile. "If not for the cause, then for me."

Kenna didn't even bother to turn around and see his reaction as she walked away. She thought fate really was a strange thing.

* * *

It had only stopped raining for a few moments by the time Kenna appeared outside the backyard patio, barefoot and wrapped in a thick woolen blanket that felt more than adequate to keep her warm.

Kenna gingerly tiptoed her way towards the wicker chair situated under the well-trimmed Oak tree, making sure she didn't step on a puddle along the way given the ground was still sodden, droplets of water cascading down the vines into the wall-mounted fountain, the shrubberies, and orange trees all drenched with rain. She pulled the plastic slipcover from the chair and plopped herself with ease, pulling her knees up to her chest, rested her chin on the bend between them with a sigh. The wind playing with her hair.

If Kenna wasn't mistaken, it should be midnight by now though she couldn't see the moon, the stars or any celestial indication that would confirm it. Only vast and endless pitch-black skies as a reminder of the bogus world she was in. At least the air was nice, the chilly gust of wind with a taste of rain in them, and the stillness of the estate was a nice trade after all the uproar and destruction she had witnessed early on.

And the patio was beyond picturesque to begin with, so much like the rest of the garden. Kenna imagined how it would have looked like in the real world, in the afternoon amidst of summer. How lovely it would be. No wonder Stefano had insisted on building the estate inside Union.

The woman shifted in her seat and frowned at his name. One of the reasons Kenna was out here because she was still waiting for Juli's response to their recent encounter with the Harbinger and sleep hadn't exactly been a welcoming distraction. She'd tossed and turned and cursed each time the ache in her head reappeared, and an hour later, here she was with a blanket around her shoulders.

But mainly it was because of the devil himself. After their little exchanges in the kitchen involving her touching him, him nearly kissing her—  _again_ , her worrying sickly for him, him caressing her cheek, somehow Kenna found it almost impossible not to get caught in this emotional tug-of-war. And now basked in her own solitary, she found herself wondering just where Stefano was while initially being grateful for his absence.

This was really, really confusing indeed.

Though it wasn't exactly her fault to feel like this, was it? For one, the man sure did had an arsenal of colorful words. Although if only the circumstance was any different, if Stefano had been any other man, it would have been probably a whole lot easier fending them off without thinking of why and  _how_ in the hell she could give herself so easily to them.

Damn him.

If he kept pushing like this, she was afraid if one day she'd push back and now was the worst timing for some pastime, some idle flirtation that would only spark a whirlwind romance with one of the most dangerous men alive. She'd only agreed for an alliance because they happened to share the same goal, it was simply crazily foolish on her part to entertain something further than that.

But feelings can creep up to anyone at any time just like that, it is only human. It is beyond anyone's control.

What would happen if she went out of control?

Kenna was instantly pulled out of her contemplation when she heard the patio door creaked open. She turned her head, finding Stefano stepping outside from the glass door with his usual grin plastered on his face.

He had ditched his usual indigo jacket with a fancy maroon silk dressing gown, looking real spruce and dapper like he usually was, his gloves were off and Kenna had to pretend not to notice how bare his hands looked like without them and the noticeably Hypertrophic burn scar on the half-side of his left hand. His right hand had a similar but smaller mark.

When he felt her stare, Stefano instantly buried his hands deep in his pockets.

" _Ciao, cara,_ " he greeted, making his way towards her at a brisk pace. "I didn't expect to find you here."

Kenna lifted a half-shrug. "They say open air helps you think clearly. And the weather is nice."

"It certainly does. Though I'm curious, I am positive I'd forgotten to unlock the patio door, how did you obtain the key?"

"I didn't. I had to pick lock my way out here since you were nowhere to be found," Kenna answered casually as if she just admitted that she had finished the remaining chocolate fudge in the fridge.

Stefano paused, looking actively horrified. "I'm not sure whether I should commend you for such 'useful' skill or not," he remarked, making air quotes.

"Oh, it's very, very useful. You'd be surprised to know just how many doors I've cracked open before."

"No doubt," Stefano drawled, looking half amused, voicing dripping with a sneer. Kenna felt her chest rumbled as she laughed.

"You really are an ass, aren't you?"

"Only for you, Kenna. Only for you." Stefano merely gave a cheeky wink in a manner that if she had her boots on, she would not have hesitated to throw one on at face.

Or at her own face for being so damn easy to get affected by his charm. Whichever worked.

Stefano did not move. After a brief moment, he then proceeded to claim the chair next to her, discarding the slipcover almost as graceful, plopped himself down and crossed his legs. They were only small spaces between their chairs that Kenna could take a whiff of aftershave and expensive toiletries from him and for the first time after their fight with Harbinger, he looked as fit as a fiddle.

Kenna shifted her gaze forward to the garden. "I see you took on my advice," she commented, couldn't bear with the silence.

"I did," Stefano replied solemnly. He was looking at her. "For you, I would."

Right, the question didn't mean to go like that, Kenna both inwardly cursed and groaned.

She stirred in her chair and had to pretend she didn't hear his previous statement. "I also saw Guardian and Obscura in the foyer earlier. I take it they are okay?"

" _Sì_. They got phased out to the Business District from the device, but they are alright," he exhaled heavily at that, the way a father concerning for his children. "Though Guardian seems more than eager to tear Theodore's limbs once she meets him."

Kenna snorted. "Don't we all?"

Stefano smirked. "Touché." He gestured toward the blanket. "What about you? What are you doing out here, Kenna?"

 _I was trying to distract myself from you,_ she wanted to answer. And Kenna was somewhat glad out of all of his powers, mind-reading was not one of them.

"Nothing. Just making plans, determining our odds while waiting for Juli's feedback," Kenna pulled the blanket tighter to herself, her face contemplative. "Basically just thinking. You know, like that old man in an armchair in Rembrandt's painting."

"You know, speaking of art, you still have never told me how you know so much about it," Stefano suddenly turned the topics at hand and Kenna was surprised. Though it wasn't like she was going to evade it.

Kenna planted her chin in her hands. "No, I never."

He turned to face her, waiting. "Care to share?" Stefano prompted, clearly curious. "No,  _do_ share. I am a pretty good listener, anyway."

"Geez, Dr. Phil, I didn't know you're so curious about it," said Kenna, somewhat curt, her doe eyes narrowed.

"Of course, I'm curious. As Nietzsche mentioned in the Gay Science 'the great majority lacks an intellectual conscience' and that's a fact. I have met countless of people in my life and very few understood me or vice versa," Stefano shared his reason. "And I never have expected that I would actually meet someone— especially in Union— who is a connoisseur of art as myself. You intrigue me."

A sheepish smile slowly rose from her lips. "You sure do have a way with words, don't you, Valentini?"

He grinned playfully. "I'm just stating an honest fact,  _mia cara._ That's all."

Kenna pondered this for a while, chewing the inside of her cheek. She sighed through her nose.

"A word of warning, if you expect some epic tale about how a girl finds her way to love art from this, you'd be sorely disappointed. Like, really."

Stefano chuckled throatily and nodded at her words.

She supposed it couldn't hurt. "Honestly, I hadn't know shit about art until that day. There was a field trip from our school and our teacher happened to take us to the National Art Museum in Krimson City that I didn't even know exists. I had never been more in awe until that day, you know? Like a kid in front of the candy store and I was gaping over paintings. Then my friend handed me this leaflet with an image of two people kissing, dripping with gold and I fell in love even more with art just like that. I didn't know it was Klimt's The Kiss until I was with Mobius."

And Kenna could still recall the feeling, the wonder, the fascination from how each painting could create different sensation and emotion within her. It was a wonderful feeling. Kenna remembered thinking just how in the world she could have lived the entire fifteen years of her life without having a single clue about art.

Kenna saw as a shock reached Stefano's face. "Mobius? You actually  _learned_ something from those uncultured swine?"

She tried to restrain from rolling her eyes but failed. "Yeah, believe it or not, I actually learned a lot of things while in Mobius. They have this endless archives of knowledge and it helped. But besides that, they sheltered, fed, educated and trained Juli and me into the agents we are today— well,  _was_ for me, at least. Which, I have to admit, it was probably the noblest thing Mobius has ever done to someone."

Stefano was quiet for a moment. "How old were you two when you joined Mobius?"

"Juli was sixteen, and I would be seventeen," Kenna frowned and counted with her fingers. "Or was it she was seventeen and I was eighteen? I can't remember. It was a long time ago, Stef."

"How come they recruited you when you were young? Did you two run away from home or something?""

"And how come I didn't know we were playing twenty questions today?" Kenna countered with arms crossed over her chest, drawing a line in the sand.

"I couldn't help it. I apologize if I seemed to pry." Stefano held his hands up, admitting mistake. "To play fair, I would let you ask me a question in return. Anything you would like to know, I will tell you."

Kenna stared at him suspiciously. "Anything?"

"Anything," he said again, almost purring, a teasing grin curled his lips.

"Anything... Hmm," she rubbed her chin in deep concentration. What would she like to know more about him? Thus far, Stefano was like an open book to her. He never hesitated to tell his story but there was a matter she'd been meaning to ask ever since their second encounter. And curiosity starting to become a heavy load.

"Well, there's this one thing I'm quite curious about," she admitted, her voice layered with thick uncertainty.

"By all means. For you, darling, I will indulge whatever your curiosity is." He looked rather mischievous saying that.

She tore her gaze away.

"How did it happen?" Her tongue was incapable to elaborate the question.

Stefano's eye narrowed. "How did what happen?"

Kenna chewed on her lip nervously, hesitating, not quite sure how to bring this up without offending him. "Your eye. You said you had lost your eye on a battlefield," she sighed. "How did it happen?"

That specific question somehow triggered something within Stefano, a strange set of emotions crossing his features.

"Ah, starting with the easy question, are we? I see," he said, his voice somber. A look of guilt instantly crossed Kenna's face.

"Forget it. No, I'm sorry, that was rude of me to—"

"No, it is fine. I suppose all men have stories and this is mine..." Stefano gestured dryly to his singed eye and hands. "So let it be known. And I pretty much said you can ask me anything."

"No, it's alright. I don't want to sound like I'm prying or something, Stef," responded Kenna, obvious regretting asking him in the question. If anything, she wouldn't want to intrude into his personal history if Stefano felt half-hearted to share it.

"My dear, Kenna, you are anything but prying. And I wouldn't mind recounting the story to you."

Kenna's brows lowered and analyzed his intonation. She tried to find any sign of aggravation on his face, wondering if his words were an exquisite façade to tell her to ' _back off'_ but that appeared not be the case. If anything there was only an open invitation, as if he wanted to share this personal story with her.

So she nodded quietly, slowly, her eyes heedful and kind. Stefano somehow steeled himself before taking a deep breath.

"As I have mentioned before, I used to be a war photographer. An aspiring one, that is. I had just turned nineteen when I first discovered Tony Vaccaro's war photos and I was enraptured. I just knew right then I wanted to photograph the war like he did. So I did. Despite my grandfather's protest, I followed my dreams and traveled to Afghanistan as soon after I graduated from college. Everything was exactly as I hoped for and I thought maybe I could prove him wrong," Stefano breathed a wry chuckle. "Well,  _I_ was wrong."

Kenna refrained herself from commenting and patiently wait for him to continue.

"I had just arrived in Iraq with the U.S. Army from eastern Afghanistan. One minute, I was taking photographs of the surroundings like I usually did before turning to this soldier in front of me," Stefano remarked, all of his focus was on his words as he began to slip into his memory lane, looking solemn.

"Suddenly, out of nowhere, a hand grenade landed directly at his feet. And by the time I realized what happened, it was already too late. The soldier exploded to his demise just at the moment I caught him through the lens. Everything simply blew up in my face, knocking me backward. There were screamings everywhere and shootings, and even then I knew that we were surrounded. The last thing I remember was apologizing to my grandfather in my head."

A profound sadness veiled her eyes, furrowed her brows. She couldn't imagine how it must have felt for Stefano, forever etched by her the horrors of war. It tugged her heart. Kenna had heard so many stories about soldiers coming home from war not just with physical issues, but with mental health issues as well.

Kenna didn't understand this back when she was younger, but now she did. Imagine being shot at, bombed, or in Stefano's case, to watch a person get blown to bits right in front of his eyes? Somehow, Kenna starting to regret referring him crazy all this time knowing now what the man had gone through. It just wasn't fair.

"What happened next?" Kenna probed kindly, her voice a mere above whisper.

"I woke up in a hospital in Baghdad. The first thing I noticed was the bandage that was wrapped around the right side of my face and hands and the acute throb in my eye. Then the doctors came and announced that I've been in a comatose for two weeks. I had lost my right eye and it was beyond anyone's ability to retrieve it. I didn't take the news kindly."

"I don't blame you. I mean, who would?" she replied understandingly.

He stared at Kenna, unfocused, as if his mind was in another place. "It was… a terrible feeling, Kenna. Almost claustrophobic, as if you were in a whirlpool and being pulled down, drowning. Then sometimes later, a letter came from  _Firenze_. It was from my aunt. She informed me that my grandfather had a heart attack and was currently hospitalized."

Kenna's mouth dropped. Stefano's eye slid away from her, his expression showed hurt. A deep, poignant hurt that she saw his face blatantly fell. This was another side of Stefano that she had never expected to see.

"The doctors wouldn't discharge me back to Italy, not while I was still recovering. No matter how I tried, how much I  _begged_ them for it, they wouldn't let me. Five days later, he passed away. And I never got the chance to see him and say I'm sorry," his voice broke as he spoke, his lips trembling. Looking even glummer than ever.

"Stefano—" Kenna paused, casting him an almost rueful look. It would be a lie if she said the very thought didn't shatter her heart.

What would she do now? Hold him in her arms? Tell him she understood? Because she didn't understand. Her life hadn't exactly been all sunshines and rainbows as well, but Stefano's life was rough. She couldn't imagine if she had been in his shoes, witnessing all the horrors and griefs, even losing an eye in the process.

Kenna supposed tragedy does not discriminate. Not even for the devil. Fuck, now she was feeling sympathetic for him.

With a frown, she reached out subconsciously and covered Stefano's hand, the scar a reminder of his tragic story and gave it an attentive squeeze. It wasn't surprising to find his skin incredibly smooth despite his flaw. Smoother than the blanket even.

"I'm sorry, Stef," croaked Kenna, not knowing what else to say to him. "I'm so sorry."

He nodded feebly and squeezed back, clutching her hand as if he could disintegrate if he let go. Kenna wasn't intending on letting go, nonetheless, though, for a moment, she briefly wondered if he was going to pull her into his arms like he did in the kitchen.

Stefano leveled his stare with her once again. Gone was the sorrow as rage had taken over— black rage, unmistakable and combustible. The look of a man who willed to murder. "I've always thought that losing my grandfather was hundred times more painful than losing an eye, but it seems Theodore is keen on reminding me how it felt. He has made sure of that."

Kenna's face reflexively hardened at Theodore's name, mirroring Stefano's own scathing glare. "We'll get him."

A weak smile tugged at Stefano's lips, his expression immediately softened. "I know."

"Motherfucker started all of this and we'll bring hell back to his door. No trial, no jury, straight to execution."

"I know," he said again, lacing their fingers together. It didn't seem he was going to let go for a very long time "With you by my side, I have the utmost confidence in it, my dear." Kenna could practically hear the smirk in his voice she could only roll her eyes, chuckling lightly.

At least someone's mood was significantly improving.

"I think it's more like a two-way street, don't you think? I mean, if you hadn't intervened back there, I would have turned into a meat roast by now— twice." Kenna responded. "So, thanks."

"We saved each other," he declared. "If you hadn't destroyed the fuel tanks with such exemplary heroism, I wouldn't even be alive by now, Kenna. So, thank  _you_."

Kenna snorted, ignoring the fact that her cheeks went pink. "Heroism is a bit far-fetched."

"You are a heroine in my book, dear. There's no need to doubt that."

A fleeting comical smile graced her lips. "Should I be putting on a costume from now on, then?"

"Why, if that's the case, I have no qualms that you'd look marvelous in it."

 _Men,_ she thought. At least he had the decency to be subtle about it. Not that she was complaining, though.

Kenna looked at the entwined hands one more time, skin to skin, his thumb drawing soothing circles on her skin whilst humming to the prelude to Tristan and Isolde. There was no barrier to restrict them this time and she wasn't sure how to feel about that. The gesture was borderline intimate and weighed heavily on her mind and heart. Yet she still hadn't made an attempt to let go.

So much for pushing him out of her mind, indeed.

"Hey, uhh... thanks for sharing that story with me, and all the other stories you've told me before. I appreciate it, Stef," Kenna murmured kindly, offering him a gentle smile though she was still too timid to meet his stare.

"I trust you, Kenna. I really do, and I just want you to know that." Stefano uttered and gazed at their hands, his voice was every bit thoughtful. "And thank you for putting your trust to confide in me regarding your past. It's nice to know you don't view me as just a mere stranger anymore."

"A stranger is a little understated." Kenna recalled how terrified she had been of him. It didn't quite make sense seeing here they were, holding hands and all civilized.

" _Regardless,_ I'm glad your perspective of me has changed."

Kenna struggled to find words for a moment. "I guess we  _are_ beyond strangers now," she made an abrupt chuckle as if to cover her blush. "Hell, stop me if I'm being all maudlin, but I think you're even starting to become a friend."

Stefano didn't immediately respond to her remark right away. He was looking rather disappointed.

He opened his mouth as if wanting to say something when Kenna felt her communicator vibrated on her belt. She made a displeased groan and carefully withdrew her hand from his, silently sighing at the loss of his warmth.

"Hold that thought for a minute, would you?" Kenna said to him as she rose up, the said device in hand. Stefano said nothing. Not even nodding.

Kenna ignored his sudden brooding mood and turned all of her attention to the communicator. "Kidman."

" _Kenna, it's me."_ It was Juli. " _We've just finished analyzing the part of the counter device you sent us. And if you thought the device seemed familiar to you, then you aren't wrong."_

Kenna quirked her eyebrows in confusion. "How's that?"

_"A few years ago, Mobius developed a portable SFE device for the engineers and technicians to carry inside the STEM. The devices got recalled, however, when six of the agents reported a thermal runaway and short circuits during a test run. Some even got injured from it. The project was then discontinued due considered as a hazmat product."_

"And?" Kenna asked, sensing there was more to this.

 _"_ And  _guess who got assigned to the project in the first place?_ "

Realization bloomed on Kenna's face. "O'Neal." She held her breath, willed herself to be calm. "Of course. Shit."

" _Yes, Liam O'Neal was the head of the project team, but was forced to step away after the incident. So if Theodore can help Liam perfected the device and use it for his own means, he could basically do anything,"_ Juli's voice buzzed through, tensed and low.

"They are obviously keeping up then. And not to mention Theodore has converted like nearly everyone into his little church club. All of his followers are probably armed with the thing now," Kenna sighed exasperatedly and caught Stefano was looking as frustrated as she was. "The next thing we know, he somehow manages to manually override the Emitter to his will."

Juli groaned on the other end of the line.  _"You sure do love to give me the headaches, don't you, sis?"_

"Only when you whine about it," teased Kenna. "But on a serious note, yes, we need to do something about this— and fast. I need supplies, Jules, access and everything you've got on the Emitter's next location."

_"We can provide you with that. The Administrator has given the green light for it."_

"Hallelujah! About-goddamn-fucking-time!" She noticed as Stefano snorted funnily at this. "Oh, and explosives. If Theodore can tear shit up, I'm doing it too."

 _"Hmm…"_ Juli's voice crackled back. " _I think I know someone who can provide you with that._

There was a long static silence before a different voice spoke into the communicator.

" _Hey, Kidman. Betcha didn't expect to hear me, did you?_ "

A broad grin splitting her face. "Well, feed me nails and call me Rusty," Kenna began. "If it isn't Esmeralda Torres."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First thing first, this chapter wouldn't have been possible without the support of my twin grann-pal, partner in crime and fellow lisztomaniac (and now beta-reader), Hey Now! You Are A Jeff! whose endless support and contribution would never stop make me cry because, oh my god, A, are you even human? She is literally the best thing ever and who knows that she also has the flair to write? Thank you again for everything, fam; the ideas, the fan arts and the friendship. You are a gem, Dali! I love you!
> 
> And of course, I would like to thank Mrscrankypants for her unconditional support and being the bestest friend a girl could ask for since the fifth grade! Love you, gal :*
> 
> As you've read, yes, the scars on Stefano's hands are my canon. I thought it's almost impossible if his hands remain fine given he was taking a photo during the soldier exploded. But that's just me, if you have any theories or something, you can always hit me up via PM! And as for KENNO, yes, their relationship is slowly but surely developing (with Kenna starting to open to him and he shares his war story, holding hands, nearly kissing, she worries sick for him and all) but like I said, this is a slow burn story, but we'll get there. I promise. Like they say, all good things take time, mate. Bear with me, yeah?
> 
> For the next chapter, we'll be going into Stefano's head. We'll see what happens as we roam there, then. Ciao!


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